Take It or Leave It
by korinara
Summary: Akatsuki & Sakura. After a moment of shock, Sakura realized that two fully grown, fully naked men were sitting squished uncomfortably together in her bathtub.
1. I

**Take It or Leave It**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Naruto. Kitties or not. This applies to all future chapters.

**A/N: **Romance/Humor/Angst.  
Major crack with a hint of something a little saner. Consider yourself warned.

O O O

"Oh, no." A single grocery bag slipped from Sakura's full hands. "Don't do this to me, sweet, merciful gods. I've been good to you. Haven't I?"

She groaned pitifully and bent to pick up the fallen bag, struggling with it before finally settling for holding it between her teeth. Forcing herself _not _to glance at the _box of fucking kittens _on her doorstep as she climbed the few steps, she somehow managed to pull the key out of her pocket with two fingers and slide it into the lock. She opened her door, stepped inside, tripped over said fucking box of kittens, and landed flat on her knees on the bread.

Her hands clenched on the tile of her entryway. "Breathe, Sakura. Just…breathe. The poor bastard that left orphan kittens on your porch didn't know this would happen." A thought struck her as she picked herself and the smashed bread up. "Unless it was Kakashi, and in that case, he's going _down."_

She left her front door open, key still in the lock, as she set the not-demolished groceries on the counter, brushing some hair back with an agitated hand. She plopped on the couch, groceries and kittens be damned, and stared out the open front door at the box on her porch.

"Right," she said, scowling. "Priorities. Most important: Feeding Sakura. Second most important: Bathing Sakura. Third most important: Making Sakura comfortable in her home away from her parents.

"Last most important: Helping orphan kittens."

And speak of the devil, a kitten popped up from the bunch, pretty silver eyes glinting in the afternoon light and blue fur sticking up at all odds and ends.

_...Blue _fur?

Sakura jumped up, an angry spark in her eyes, and picked up the kitten. It was surprisingly healthy for an orphan. "Did somebody _dye _you?" she asked in disbelief, surveying the kitten for any further injuries. "That's just…just mean! I can't believe someone would even…even…"

Another kitten crawled to hang over the edge of the cardboard box, silver paws clawing at the edges. Sakura picked that one up, too.

She set the blue one back into the box as she looked at this one. "Purple eyes. Pretty," she mumbled, playing for it's whiskers for a moment before it growled and tried to wriggle away. "I wonder if you're a girl…?" She flipped it over, to which it squealed at. "Oh, nope, definitely a boy."

As she set this one back in, she surveyed the others, crawling over each other and meowing and hissing and spitting.

She grimaced as she tugged the box inside and closed the door, the flare of a seal going unnoticed. _"Wild _bunch you are."

Once inside, she set the box on her coffee table and pulled each kitten out, one by one, groceries and squashed bread completely forgotten. "One blue one, male. One grey one, male. One black, male. One gold one, _another _male. One brown one, male again. One orange one—ooh, a Tabby Cat! I've always wanted one of them. Male also. And last but not least, one white one…that's really dirty." She frowned as she picked up this kitten, turning it over as it stared at her blankly. "What'd you do, roll half of yourself in mud?"

She gathered them up in her arms, sighed, and placed them carefully back in the box. "Was there a name left here or anything?" She checked the side, which only read "Good karma comes your way," printed neatly.

She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "Good karma. Yeah." She stood and walked to the kitchen, putting away the groceries as she kept a close watch on the kittens.

The blue kitten popped its head up again, followed closely by the dirty white kitten. The silver kitten overpowered both of them, placing a paw on each of their heads and…scowling? Was it _scowling _at her?

She sighed and threw away the empty bags. "I can't take care of you guys. I'm sorry, but…I barely have enough money for _myself."_

The blue kitten disappeared inside the box once more, and the silver kitten took its spot. It mewled hopefully.

Sakura's heart clenched. "Oh, don't do that to me."

It mewled again, and something caught her eye around its neck. She almost dropped the demolished bread. "Is that…a _collar? _Oh, thank you, gods. I now know that you exist."

She rushed over to him, picked him up, and inspected the medallion around him. It was draped over him loosely—like a human's necklace would fit a kitten. She pulled it up carefully.

"What the hell is this?" she asked nobody in particular, tracing the upside-triangle. It was inscribed in a circle and was quite heavy. Too heavy for a kitten, in fact, and she pulled it off of him as he glared at her.

She set it carefully on the coffee table. "Well. So much for having tags."

O O O

"Right," Sakura said, pulling the whole box of kittens into the bathroom. "Baths for all of you, and then off to the animal shelter you go."

She set two towels on the floor, filled the tub with shallow, warm water, and picked out the two dirtiest kittens.

"Mr. My-Previous-Owner-Dyed-Me-Blue," she said in disdain, pulling said kitten out and setting him beside the tub, "and Mr. I-Rolled-Half-of-Myself-in-Dirt. Please don't scratch me. You're both filthy. I know you hate water, but still."

With a deep breath, she sat on a stool in front of the bathtub and lowered each kitten into the water. They didn't even flinch, and the kittens left in the box meowed loudly.

Their front paws touched the water first. Then their tails. Then their back paws. The kittens behind her seemed to chant in mewls. Their feet touched the bottom of the tub, and…

There they sat, staring up at her with large, confused, silver and golden eyes.

Sakura leaned back. "That was…anticlimactic." She smiled sweetly and leaned forward to scratch the white kitten behind its ear. "But thank you for not scratching m—"

A loud pop, a quick brush of smoke across her vision, and two larger bodies filled her tub, gasping and slipping and sliding.

Something big and blue slipped and hit his head against the faucet, and then tripped the large white figure, which fell damn near on top of him, holding onto the sides of the tub for dear life as his knees bent and he sat on his shins.

After a moment of shock, Sakura realized that two fully grown, fully naked men were sitting squished together in her bathtub.

"I know this seems kind of awkward," the blue man—allow her to reiterate: _blue—_tried to explain, rubbing the back of his head and grimacing, "but we can explain."

Sakura immediately jumped into a defensive stance. "You—I…I _recognize _you, you bastard!"

The pale white man stood also, though shakily, and turned toward her. And when he did, the only thing Sakura noticed was that half of him was black. Or dark green. She couldn't really tell, because the niggling question of whether or not the color split went all the way down was fighting against her morality to just sneak a peek.

"Please be calm, miss," the black and white man said, stepping out of the bathtub. Sakura took an instinctive step back. "We mean you no harm."

"Who—what—_you!" _she said, shaking her head and pointing again to the blue man. "You're Hoshigako Kisame!"

"Hoshiga_ki _Kisame," the blue man—Kisame—corrected, still rubbing the back of his head in vain. "And if you'll calm down, we can surely explain to you what's going on."

"You're damn right you're going to explain!" she yelled, cracking her knuckles. "Because otherwise I'm going to crush your face in!"

Kisame frowned. "You'd crush in the face of a kitty-cat?"

"_You're not a fucking kitty-cat! _You're…a shark…man…thing!"

He put up two placating hands. "Nevertheless, we were sent here."

She tensed.

"Not to inflict any corporal injuries on anyone, of course," the black and white man said, mirroring Kisame's pose, two hands raised in compliance. "This is a trial we must face, and we would greatly appreciate it if you would aid us."

Kisame glared down at his comrade. "We've been _cursed, _you mean," he murmured.

The dichromatic man nodded. _"It's just as Kisame says. Our Leader cursed us."_

Sakura blinked and furrowed her brow. "Did you…did your voice just change?"

"His name is Zetsu. He has a split personality," Kisame explained. "Now about this curse?"

Sakura eyed the two of them suspiciously. "Alright. Spill. And I _might _help you."

"It seems our leader wished to dispose of us," Zetsu said, his voice gentle again, completely belying the fact that he was naked and very toned and probably very, very dangerous. In fact, Sakura got a glance of menacingly sharp teeth as he spoke. "Or perhaps just punish us."

"He dropped us off in the middle of nowhere as _newborn _kittens, as insane as that sounds," Kisame went on, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub and draping a towel over his lap. Zetsu followed suit. "Some old woman found us and took us in for a while."

"We were…content," Zetsu said, cocking his head to the side slowly. "And she was content with the knowledge that we were, in reality, cursed men."

"But she didn't know how to lift the curse, and we were forced to live like we do now: only being able to be men when we're wet. And she…well, she eventually died."

"_That husband of hers stuffed us all in a box and tossed us on a cart headed here," _the more rugged voice rumbled. _"We were helpless until the man in the cart gave us to a beggar outside the gates."_

"The beggar tried to sell us," Kisame said casually, "but nobody would take us. So he left us at your doorstep."

Sakura groaned. "Why _mine? _Of all people…"

Kisame shrugged. "Why us? Why anybody? It's just the natural order of things."

"Oh, don't go giving me that 'natural order' bullshit," Sakura snapped, glowering down at the kittens still in the box. "And these guys? Are they cursed too, or are they just kittens?"

"They're cursed as well," Zetsu said.

Kisame scratched his ankle. "I suggest you meet them properly."

"You mean put them in water?"

"Yes."

Sakura turned around and picked up the orange kitten. It licked her finger.

"I wish you weren't so cute," she mumbled under her breath. She didn't bother to turn around as she spoke. "Kisame, how do you lift the curse?"

A meow came in answer.

When she turned around, Kisame was being smothered by the towel, and Zetsu began reverting to his kitten form.

"Oh, _man," _Sakura said, picking up both kittens and depositing them in the box. "Better get started."

O O O

She stood in the dim of the summer-dusk light, flip-flops on her feet, hose in hand, bathing suit snug around her body, hair tied up tightly.

She reached down one hand to crank on the faucet slowly.

All of the seven kittens flinched, sitting in a line against the fence.

Sakura bent on one knee. "One at a time, now." The hose spluttered and gurgled before spilling out a thin, slow stream of water.

One brave kitten crept carefully toward her, belly low to the ground.

Sakura smiled and held out a hand. "Come on, boy. That's it." He was the orange one—the _cutest _one. "I won't hurt you."

It stopped at her and licked the tip of her finger with that tiny, rough tongue.

Sakura's heart clenched in her chest again and she sat back on her legs. The kitten crawled to sit between her knees and stare up at her.

She slowly brought the hose over to trickle over its back, and it winced visibly.

And there it was: a poof, a small cloud of smoke, and—

Oh, God.

There was a naked man in between her legs.

He smiled brightly, dark brown hair slightly dripping from the water. "Hi, I'm Tobi!"

Sakura had to stifle a scream when he reached forward and hugged her tightly, rocking back and forth. "Thank you, thank you, miss! You saved us! And I get to be _Tobi _again!"

"You're _naked!" _she screeched, scrambling away. "Don't hug me!"

"But you saved us!" Tobi yelled, and it broke off with a gasp when Sakura pushed him away with a bare foot—the sandal had fallen off—to his chest.

"I didn't do it voluntarily! Why would I save the Akatsuki? You're my enemy!"

But Tobi just kept on grinning, crawling toward her on hands and knees, bright face shining and laughing. "Still! Involuntarily or not, Tobi is free from being a kitten for a moment! And that's wonderful!"

He tackled her again, and Sakura made an agitated noise in the back of her throat. "Knock it off! I'm warning you, Tom!"

"Tobi!"

"Tobi—whatever!"

Reluctantly, he pulled away, sitting cross-legged with his hands in his lap.

Sakura swallowed. _I will not look, will not—oh, too late. I will not _stare, _then. _"Tobi is your name?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

Sakura grabbed the hose and draped it over her lap as she sat down, legs folded beneath her. "Okay. Fine. Now just…sit still while I put water on…" She grabbed the most readily available kitten—she grabbed the dark brown one with stitches, and it hissed when she dragged it into her lap without thinking. "…This guy."

She realized too late what she'd done as a puff of smoke and a pop followed after.

And there a tall—dear _God _was he tall—man straddled her lap, unamused, black hair hanging over green eyes set in black.

A thread tongue flicked out to lick the stitches at the corner of his mouth.

Sakura didn't even _care, _at this point. She sighed and counted to three mentally. "Okay. What's _your _name, since it's apparently Molest-Sakura-and-then-Introduce-Ourselves-Properly Day?"

His eyes narrowed. "Kakuzu," he deadpanned.

"Right. Well, Kakuzu, I'd say it's time for you to…ah…take a seat next to Tobi."

Kakuzu grabbed her by the string of her bathing suit strap tightly, pulling her closer to him and scowling. "I _lost _my goddamned wallet on this little fucking…_adventure," _he hissed, nose almost touching hers as he unfolded his legs to stretch on either side of her body and encase her tightly. "And I want it fucking _back."_

A brief flash of fear washed over Sakura, and then she pushed it aside and tried unsuccessfully to pull away from him. "Look." She peeled his fingers off of her strap one by one. "I'm _helping _you. I have no idea where your wallet is, and it's not my job to reimburse you for this. I'm not responsible for any of it."

He seemed to agree and realize that she could do nothing for him, because he slipped off of her and stood, which Sakura screeched at.

"Hey! Kakuzu! Get down!"

He glanced at her over his shoulder, still scowling.

"I have a five-foot fence! You've got to be _at least _six foot!" She pointed down with one finger. "Sit! I don't want my neighbors to see you!"

He scoffed and sat down on one of her lawn chairs.

A small pressure was felt on her thigh, and when she looked down, there was Kisame, all large silver eyes and pretty little kitty-smile.

She plucked him off. "Oh, no. You've had your turn."

He trudged over to where Tobi was, followed by Zetsu, and sat.

Sakura closed her eyes and groped around for a kitten, and the one she grabbed growled loudly and fluffed up around her hand, stiffening. When she opened them, she saw that she'd grabbed the silver kitten, and it was _not _happy.

She frowned and held it up before her. "Oh, calm down, will you?"

It scratched her thumb and she almost dropped it.

"You little fucker! That's going to itch like crazy tonight!"

Annoyed, she poured a trickle of water over its tail. Just like the last few times: a poof of smoke and a pop. And then a naked man with silver hair and pretty violet eyes was arching his back, baring his teeth. "Where's my fucking rosary?" he shouted.

Sakura scowled. "Hey! Don't talk to me like that; I _saved _you!"

"Bullshit!" it—_he—_snapped, still arched. "You stole my fucking rosary! I'll give you three fucking seconds to go and get it before I grind you into fucking dust and _eat _whatever's left!"

Sakura stood instantly, and the man climbed to his feet, breathing heavy and scowling.

"It's on the counter inside," she said slowly, hoping to soothe him instead of adding fuel to the already raging fire. "It's safe. I just thought it was hurting you."

He glanced at Kakuzu, who glanced at Sakura and then nodded.

The man calmed considerably. "Fine. _Hidan."_

"What?"

"Hidan," he repeated—_barked, _rather, and Sakura found this slightly amusing. "My _name. _Are you fucking deaf _and _dumb?"

Sakura was very glad to see him walk over to sit beside Kakuzu.

Just as she sighed and composed herself, Tobi turned back into a kitten and ambled slowly over to her back porch.

She bent down to retrieve the last unnamed kitten: the golden one. It readily accepted the water and then smiled, nodding at her, when he grew to his human form.

If he had a hat, Sakura suspected he would tip it.

"Deidara. Thanks, yeah."

She frowned. "No problem."

She counted all of the men and kittens that sat before her, coming up with six. "Six? Wasn't there seven…?"

"Itachi left through a knothole," Deidara explained, pointing to said knothole in the far back fence. "All the same, you wouldn't want to meet _him, _yeah."

Sakura stared at the knothole for a minute. "Well. Good thing, then. I might be tempted to kill him."

Kakuzu laughed from his spot on the lawn chair before turning back into a kitten.

Slowly—one by one—the rest of the Akatsuki began reverting to kittens.

Deidara was the only one left standing, unabashed at his…open nudity.

Sakura closed her eyes and strode inside, one naked man and five kittens following gaily after her. "Lord, have mercy on my soul. Just this once." She returned Hidan's rosary to him in the process, wrapping it a few times around his neck so that it fit just right.

Deidara cleared his throat behind her. "We never got _your _name, yeah."

Sakura sat on the couch in the living room, and each kitten claimed appropriate spots around her feet and where she sat. Tobi jumped into her lap. Kakuzu settled on her right foot and Hidan on her left. Zetsu and Kisame flanked each side of her, while Deidara simply stood behind her, no doubt feeling slightly awkward, being naked and the only human male in the room.

She scratched Tobi's ear absently. "Sakura. And I can't believe this is happening."

Hidan rubbed his cheek against her bare toe, whiskers tickling her. She wondered if this was his form of…animalistic apology.

Probably not.

The scratch turned into long strokes down Tobi's back, and soon the Tabby Cat was purring.

Sakura leaned back and sighed. "Sometimes I hate how nice I am."

The presence behind her left quickly, and seconds later a gold kitten hopped onto the couch and settled in her lap beside Tobi, nuzzling against her stomach.

She wondered why the thought that she had six S-class criminals snuggling against her wasn't as troubling as it should have been.

She suspected the fact that they were now purring balls of fluff had something to do with it.


	2. II

Take It or Leave It

**Take It or Leave It**

**II**

O O O

Sakura hadn't even noticed she'd fallen asleep on the couch, but she didn't take nicely to waking up with six kittens piled on top of her.

She'd somehow managed to lie sideways, using the armrest as a pillow. The kittens she saw first and foremost were Kisame and Hidan, the little _fucks, _because they were sleeping on her _breasts._

Then again, they were kittens. There wasn't much she could do besides swat them away.

Upon further inspection she was able to locate and hone in on the other four kittens, all dozing happily.

She craned her neck around painfully to glance at the clock.

10 AM.

Yawning and stretching, she shook the kittens taking residence atop her torso. One by one, six curious heads rose to stare at her with bright, sleepy eyes.

"C'mon," she urged, shooing Kisame and Hidan a bit. "Up, up. I need to get up."

None of them listened.

"You little shits," she hissed, sitting up slowly. They tumbled into her lap, all limbs and whiskers and meows. Panicking, she ghosted her hands over the pile of kittens. "Oh! Oh, no, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean—oh, are you alright?"

Kakuzu shook himself off and hopped deftly from the couch to the coffee table, opting for stretching out and lying beside a long-abandoned glass of water.

Sakura frowned. "Sorry, you guys."

Hidan hopped beside Kakuzu, and as the other kittens slowly ambled away from her, Tobi stayed, flicking his tail and blinking from between her legs.

And then Sakura couldn't help herself. She giggled—God, how long had it been since she'd done _that?—_and hugged him to her chest, rubbing her cheek against his fur gently. "You're so _adorable."_

Before she could continue her snuggling of Tobi-kitten, though, a rather low-pitched meow came from the kitchen.

She turned toward it, and there sat the missing black cat, pawing angrily at the kitchen sink.

Tobi jumped from Sakura's lax hands.

"Itachi."

The kitten stopped its quest and looked up at her, eyes dark red and slit, seeming more menacing than she'd ever known him to be.

And then Sakura mentally slapped herself.

For fuck's sake, he was a _kitten. _

She marched over to him and picked him up, to which he protested violently at and proceeded to yowl and thrash, lithe body twisting in her hands.

"Hey!" she barked, though Itachi made no move to stop. "Knock it off! I'm trying to help you!"

Kisame jumped on the counter to bat at Itachi's flailing back legs, and Itachi stilled in her grasp.

Sakura huffed. "About damn time." She brought Itachi close to her face. "Feel lucky that I'm not immediately handing you over to Tsunade, you little—"

The sound of running water interrupted her train of thought, though, and she glanced up to the kitchen sink, where a cloud of smoke had erupted.

"Oh, no."

When it cleared there was only Zetsu, head dipped in the still-running sink. He stood straight, shut off the water, and smoothed his dark green hair back.

Itachi squirmed in her hands.

"On behalf of the Akatsuki and our significant…lapse," he said, eyes trained and seemingly bored, "I will act as our speaker. I would like to discuss our arrangements, miss, if that is convenient for you at this time."

She gave him the lamest look she could muster. "Oh, yes, by all means, let's just proceed to sit down and discuss how you'll all be _living _with me from now on." She tucked Itachi under her arm. "In fact, how about we just discuss how I utterly _despise _more than half of you? Or how I'm so tempted to shove Itachi in the oven and turn in on 450 that it hurts?"

Zetsu stood still, unfazed by her rambling. His hair occasionally dripped, but other than blinking and breathing, that was the only movement that came from him.

"Or," Sakura said, squeezing Itachi when he tried to wriggle away, "we can formulate a plan to hide you from all my friends. Or we can sit on the street and sell lemonade to raise money for me to _license _you all!"

"Miss Sakura," Zetsu said gently, but Sakura continued.

"Because Lord fucking knows I asked for this, yes? Lord _knows _I want a shark man and the guy who killed one of my best friend's family and…whatever the hell _you _are," at this she looked up and down the expanse of his body, unabashed at his nakedness, "living with me."

"Miss Sakura."

"Or! Or," Sakura laughed, and she didn't realize just how insane she sounded. "Or I could just kill you all while you're in your kitten forms. Just smash your little skulls or slit your little throats."

"Miss Sakura."

"Or I can just gather you all the fuck back into that box—"

"Miss Sakura."

"—and take you to Tsunade and let her know who you are, because _surely _she'd recognize the jutsu. Trust me; the hokage values my judgment far more than anybody might think."

"_Sakura."_

The deft change in tone did nothing to Sakura as she marched to the bathroom and shoved Itachi in the box, left untended to on the counter, and then dragged said box into the living room to begin systematically shoving every other kitten in.

She made a grab for Tobi, who meowed softly and cowered, and a pale hand grabbed her wrist a in a vice grip.

When she looked up, Zetsu was bent over her, face still impassioned, hair still dripping, eyes settled on her firmly.

She tried to jerk away, but Zetsu refused to relent.

"Let go of me."

"I can not allow any further mistreatment of my comrades," he said simply, pulling her to stand with him.

"I did _not _mistreat them! And they're damn lucky I don't feed all of them to Akamaru, anyway!"

"Miss Sakura."

"And stop _calling _me that!" With one final jerk she wrenched free, rubbing her wrist. "My name is _Sakura. _Just Sakura."

"Sakura," Zetsu said carefully, enunciating each syllable, stepping back to allow her to sit in a defeated pile at his feet.

She buried her face in her hands. "Why is this such a mess?" she asked to no one in particular, covering her frustrated, tearing eyes. "They're only a bunch of kittens."

Zetsu bent on one knee in front of her, then took her hands in his and pulled them slowly away from her face. "We," he began, dead serious as he stared her in the eye, those horribly sharp teeth flashing innocently, "are not kittens. We are the Akatsuki."

She pulled away from him to put the back of her hand to her mouth, stifling the little sounds she usually made when she cried. "I know…"

Tobi crawled to her carefully, ears flat, belly low to the ground as before. He mewled up at her and rubbed his cheek against her knee.

A sob slipped past Sakura's defenses and she picked him up, barely noticing Zetsu flinch, to hold him against her chest, petting him and crying as she did so. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you."

Tobi nuzzled into her hands, meowing and purring and occasionally licking her chin.

"I won't hurt you again," she whispered, and the other kittens climbed out of the box, Itachi making his way off down the hall while the others crowded around her and Zetsu's form.

When Sakura was done sitting in the circle of kittens blinking up at her owlishly and one in her hand, damn near falling asleep, she stood, setting Tobi down.

Zetsu stood with her. "It is perhaps too late to mention, Sakura, but there is someone approaching your door."

She stared at him for a moment. "What are you—?"

And then her doorbell buzzed.

She gasped. "Oh, no! I'm not allowed to have pets in my apartment! What if it's my landlady?" She put two hands to her face, panicking and glancing around frantically. "Zetsu! Do me a favor and round up all the kittens, alright?" She shoved the box into his hands. "Put them in here and then go into my room and stay there!"

Zetsu did solemnly as asked, though he didn't really have to move. All he did was set the box down and all the kittens jumped in. He collected Itachi on his way down the hallway.

Sakura answered the door, only slightly surprised to find Ino. "Oh. Hey, Ino."

Ino raised a hand and grinned. "Hey, Forehead. How's it going?"

Sakura stepped aside to allow Ino in, and the blonde girl made a beeline for the kitchen.

"Fine," Sakura said, closing the door behind her and quickly patting the cat hair off of her. "Just been kind of tired lately."

"Too much sunbathing, huh?" Ino asked, pulling a soda from the fridge. "You know, as a medic, _you, _of all people, should know that tanning is bad for your skin."

Sakura furrowed her brow. "Sunbathing? I don't go sunbathing."

Ino took a seat on the couch and pointed to her outfit. "So then what's with the bathing suit?"

Sakura looked down and instantly groaned. "Oh. I was just…out watering my plants yesterday and figured I'd…dress light." She took a seat beside her friend and rested her feet atop the coffee table. "So what's up?"

Ino shrugged and opened the soda can. "Nothing. I'm on break, so I just came to see how you were doing. Your house is near the shop anyway."

Sakura snorted and leaned back, arms behind her head. "You mean Mr. Yamanaka _actually _let you walk away from the flower shop?"

"He doesn't make me work as much as you think. I work for the money, though. Assignments just don't pay enough these days."

"Tell me about. They've been slow coming, too."

"Yeah, well," Ino said lazily, taking a sip. "You know how they get near fall. Always sending out all the guys to pick up the crap missions before winter sets in."

Sakura laughed. "Comes with having a female hokage, I guess. Though I wouldn't mind if Tsunade at least left us _some _guys."

"She leaves us all the losers," Ino agreed, putting her feet up, as well. "All the sexy ones are gone."

For a moment, Sakura thought about telling Ino just how dangerous and annoying sexy men could be and that, if she liked, she could have the boxful she kept in the bedroom.

She decided against it.

"Speaking of which," Ino drawled, "how's the love life? Any new ones?"

"Ha!" Sakura automatically exclaimed, throwing up a tired hand. "Are you kidding me? Between the hospital and trying to keep up with all the bills and crap coming with this apartment, I've barely got time for _myself."_

Ino sighed and leaned her head on her shoulder. "Wouldn't it be nice if pretty guys could just be…_delivered _on our doorsteps in a box or something?"

Sakura almost flinched. Almost. "The pretty ones are usually so fucked up they can't handle a crush without going through severe mental trauma."

"True. Hell, look at Sasuke."

Sakura glanced up at the ceiling. "Don't remind me. Actually, I take that back. Remind me. How long has he been gone?"

"Few years. Five, I think. I've lost count."

Sakura paused. "Do you think he's dead?"

Ino lifted herself up, setting the soda on the coffee table, right beside the old glass of water. "Honestly?"

"Please."

"I think he's gone for good."

"I thought so."

A heavy silence passed.

"Well!" Ino glanced back at the clock, stood, and took her soda with her. "That's that. I should be getting back now." She headed for the door, drink still in hand. "Thanks for the soda, Sakura!"

Sakura nodded and watched her friend leave.

"What a fucking floozy."

And then she whipped around to catch sight of a very handsome, very _naked _Hidan.

Good God, the pretty ones really _were _crazy.

"Hey!" Sakura yelled, jumping up from the couch. "Don't call my friend a floozy! And how are you…not a kitten?"

Hidan waved back toward the hallway. "While you were over there chatting with your leech of a fucking friend, we decided to drench our hair. Takes longer to dry that way."

Sakura blanched. "Who else?"

"What the hell do you mean, 'who else'?"

Without answer she darted off down the hall, passing by naked-Kakuzu and naked-Kisame, who were admiring some pictures on her wall, and skidded into the bathroom.

Deidara was just lifting Itachi into the sink when Sakura snatched the black kitten out of his hands.

"What the hell are you _thinking?" _she asked—_demanded—_tugging Itachi against her. "I don't want him prancing around as a human!"

Deidara stared at her blankly. "Why?"

"Because I hate him!" She pointed at him with her free hand. "And I hate you, too, for that matter! I hate all of you!"

Deidara glanced from Itachi to Sakura, raising one eyebrow. "Fine."

He brushed past her, the bare skin of her shoulder dusting over his chest as he did so.

Okay. So she blushed. A little.

He _was _cute; she had to admit that.

Then again, Sasuke had been cute too, and look where he ended up: dead. Or something worse. She didn't like thinking about it.

So she marched right back out of the bathroom, Itachi still in hand, passing by quite a few naked men in her bustle to get into her bedroom.

"Sanctuary," she breathed, closing the door behind her and allowing Itachi to hop to the ground. She turned and leaned against said door.

"Good morning, Miss Sakura!"

Sakura blinked up at the source of the noise. And then she felt her temper skyrocket. "Tobi! Get the hell out of my bed!" She rushed to him and shooed him, smoothing out the damp pillows and fixing the comforter. "Look, you got your…your nakedness all over it."

"I'm sorry, Miss Sakura!"

She glared at him over her shoulder. "Don't call me that. Just _Sakura."_

"Okay, Sakura!"

She sighed and sank to the floor, hand clamped over her forehead. "This is a migraine and a half, you know that?"

"Tobi is sorry Sakura has a headache. What can Tobi do?"

"You can stop referring to yourself in the third person."

"What?"

"What?"

Tobi sat down across from her, face charmingly boyish and with a certain glint in his brown eyes that made Sakura look away.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the door opened before he could, shoving into Sakura's back and knocking the wind out of her.

"I am going to fucking _kill _whoever that is," she vowed to no one, standing up and glaring holes through…

Zetsu.

Oh.

He opened his mouth partly, stepping out from behind the door to reach out to her, touching the crease of her elbow carefully. "My apologies. Are you injured?"

She shook him off. "No, I'm fine."

He nodded and pulled back.

"Zetsu, I need to…" She put two hands on her head, smoothing her hair back and looking up at the ceiling. "I need to…do something. I don't know."

"An intervention?" Tobi asked innocently, and Sakura snapped.

"That's it! Intervention time!" She turned to Tobi and put two hands on his shoulders. "Round everybody into the living room, okay?"

Tobi nodded vehemently. "Yes! Tobi will most definitely help Miss Sakura!" And with that he sped out of the room, yelling "Intervention!" to everybody in earshot.

Zetsu offered a hand. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.

She denied his hand, batting it away. "I'm _fine, _Zetsu, and even if I wasn't, I'm a medic-nin. I can handle myself."

She strode out of the room, rubbing agitatedly at her eyes.

O O O

It turned out that Tobi had served as an _excellent _vehicle to gather everyone in one place. Kisame, Kakuzu, and Deidara were seated on the couch, Deidara stood behind it, Hidan perched himself on one arm—Sakura held back a nervous twitch at this, because if he fucking broke the arm, she'd break the entire couch over his head—Tobi sat patiently on the floor, and Zetsu was just trailing behind her, Itachi-kitten in hand.

Sakura stood in front of them all, hands clapped together, fake smile plastered on her face. It felt more like she was making a presentation at a board meeting at the hospital than anything. "Okay!"

"If I may interrupt," Zetsu began, standing half in the kitchen.

Sakura blinked. "Yes. Go ahead. It's not like you haven't already."

"Itachi should be in his human form so that he can hear what you have to say, as well—"

"_No."_

Zetsu stared at her for a moment, golden eyes calm and trained. Just like always. "I will restrain him, though I am certain that it will not be necessary. Itachi has impeccable self-control. He also recognizes you as our appointed…owner."

But she didn't get a chance to answer, because he was already rinsing Itachi's head under the sink. With a pop and a puff of smoke that had Sakura flinching, Itachi stood naked in her kitchen, hair dripping wet, crimson eyes proud and settled on some point above her head.

Her hands fisted. _"Itachi."_

He nodded. "Haruno."

And then he obediently marched to the couch, standing beside Deidara at the back.

Zetsu took his place beside Sakura. And when Sakura began staring at him intently, he took the hint and found a seat on the floor in front of the couch.

"As I was saying," Sakura continued, pacing in front of them, mindful of the coffee table just _waiting _to get in her way and make her stumble, "I've called an intervention, because frankly, I can't handle you all." She watched the seven pairs of eyes following her every movement, and among them, the crimson ones were the ones that unnerved her most. "Itachi, stop looking at me." It felt good to have power. She liked this power.

He continued staring at her obstinately for a moment, and then finally—after what seemed like hours to Sakura—he glanced away with an annoyed, familiar, "Hn."

Sakura swallowed her angry nostalgia. "Anyway. Intervention. Yes. I'm still in the deciding stage of whether or not I'm going to keep you or turn you in."

Pandemonium broke at this, and Kakuzu stood, kicking the coffee table out toward her.

Sakura dodged it, anger and frustration and every other emotion she held within her pooling out into her eyes and making them tear up. She jumped from the table to the man, landing a well-placed kick to his jaw.

He stumbled back but righted himself, intent by the fury in his odd, bright-on-dark eyes on tearing her limb from limb.

But before he could make a movement to break something out into an all-out massacre—she _refused _to think of Itachi at this—Kisame and Zetsu and one who might have been Hidan were holding him back.

She watched them struggle with the man, chakra automatically flowing into her fingers, her knuckles, her feet, and there was only one thing she could think of: The fuckers—all seven of them—had _stolen _her fucking stockpile of sweatpants. And they were stretching them out to the point where she'd never be able to use them again, the bastards.

Temper successfully defused, he took a seat on the couch, Zetsu hovering over him. Deidara reclaimed his spot beside Itachi, and Hidan opted for standing with his arms crossed over his chest beside the arm of the couch—no longer on it.

Sakura's stance dropped when she realized they were all staring at her. Quietly, she righted the coffee table. "That was unexpected."

No words. Only stares.

She cleared her throat. "O…kay. Well. Like I said, I was contemplating giving you all to Tsunade, because you _are _dangerous criminals and, like…uh…the stitch guy demonstrated here, you could all very well be detrimental to my physical well-being, not to mention emotional."

"Sakura," Zetsu started, and his voice was gentle and calm. Just like always. "I want to explain something to you, and I want you to listen carefully. No interruptions."

She furrowed her brow.

"Please?"

And relented. "Fine." She crossed her arms and sat down on the coffee table, slightly glad now that they had found her stockpile of sweatpants. They were…less distracting this way.

"Our leader was displeased with us," he said. "He took everything we had."

"But—"

He held up a hand. "No interruptions. I understand fully well that we are criminals. We are murderers, we are thieves, we are liars; we are not honest, good people, Sakura. And though I am not asking you to look past all of this, I _am _asking you to realize that we are _helpless _without you."

"So you need me."

"Yes."

She sighed and put a hand to her forehead, sneering at the headache already forming. "But _you _have to understand that this is an internal struggle for me. You're the enemy. And as helpless and dejected as you may be, I still am obligated to turn you in. And I have the chance to do so…"

"Would you take in my brother?" Itachi asked suddenly, and his voice shocked Sakura out of her thoughts. "If he were to return at this moment, he would be deemed a criminal by technical default. But should he ask for shelter and help, you would give it to him."

Sakura frowned.

"Would you not?"

"Your brother is one of my closest friends," Sakura snapped. "You all are strangers."

"We're not strangers any more," Tobi piped hopefully, and Sakura suddenly felt guilty.

But it only lasted for a second, because as innocent and harmless as Tobi appeared, he had killed, too.

"All that I am asking," Zetsu said, still so composed and cool, "is that you think about it. Sleep on it. Then tell us your answer in the morning."

"But—" He turned back into a kitten, and Sakura's frown deepened. "But it's only noon."

After a few more moments, the only men left in their human forms were Deidara and Itachi. Longer hair equaled a longer time being a human, apparently.

She scratched absently at her head for a moment before standing and heading into the kitchen. "So who's hungry?"


	3. III

Take It or Leave It

**Take It or Leave It**

**III.**

O O O

There was a zap and a yelp, and when Sakura turned around, Itachi-kitten was stumbling backward with frayed fur and a dazed look in his eyes.

She glanced at Zetsu—it had been his idea that he stay in his human form to help her around the house, and it _was _a good idea, actually, if not for him having to constantly dunk his head in water—who met her eyes and then bustled over to Itachi, where several of the other kittens were already crowding.

He knelt in front of him, taking the stunned and shaking kitten into his hands. "Miss Haruno."

She sighed and came up behind him. He _still _didn't use her first name. She'd _given _him permission, damn it. "Miss Haruno" made her sound old, and she was barely twenty-four.

"What happened?"

He nodded toward Itachi, who was still trembling, and held him up to her.

Tentatively, Sakura took him, looking over his appearance. It looked like he'd been shocked. "Do you know what he did?"

Zetsu was dunking Kakuzu's head in the sink before Sakura could blink, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She'd never been on particularly friendly terms with the man. And granted it had only been a few days, but hell, he was still scary in his own right. Stitches and sutures littered his body in an endless mass of cross-hatches and stiff, angry lines, bending where he decided to bend, malleable but firm at the same time. How could she _not _be a little bit freaked out by that?

Oh, and his _eyes. _She didn't even want to get _started _on his eyes. Sure, they were pretty in their own right and they were most definitely unique, but there was something distinctly foreboding about them. Or maybe they just reminded her of glass marbles floating in a bowl of ink, or something similarly cliché and decidedly Harlequin-romance-esque.

Nevertheless, Sakura decided as she unconsciously held Itachi to her chest and watched the tall, dark, _un_handsome, brusque, naked man appear from behind the kitchen counter, she doubted she'd be making friends with him any time soon.

For God's sake, even his _name _was enough to give her nightmares. _Kakuzu. _Why couldn't he be named Kouhei or something? But then, peace and calm was apparently the exact opposite of stitches where stitches shouldn't be and dark, angry, inverted eyes that stayed even when he was a kitty.

Speaking of kitties, Itachi growled something that sounded distinctly like a hum or a very aggressive purr. Either way, he was pressed into her non-existent cleavage, he was the bastard brother of Sasuke, and Sakura despised him. So she promptly removed him from her breasts.

"Kakuzu," Zetsu said, handing the man a pair of sweat pants that looked way, _way _too small for him. Come to think of it, where the hell did Zetsu get the sweat pants, anyway? Was he _stock-piling _them somewhere? And how was he so damn _fast?_

Sakura sighed and leaned over, burying her face in Itachi's fur.

Itachi. Right. Mass murderer. Psychopath. Bastard.

Wrong person to snuggle.

With in indignant sniff, she pulled away, glaring up at the much taller forms of Kakuzu and Zetsu, the former of which pulling the pants on. She would have laughed if he hadn't kept his eyes pinned on her the whole time, daring her to even _chuckle._

Dear Lord, those pants must have been at least four sizes too small. The elastic at the bottom barely reached past the meaty part of his calf, and the waistband looked about ready to snap apart and fly across the room.

Well, hopefully he didn't do any bending or twisting anytime soon.

"What happened to Itachi?" Zetsu asked, waiting patiently for an answer.

When Kakuzu spoke, his voice rumbled, and Sakura's fingertips dug into Itachi's sides. Itachi promptly hum-growled again.

"He tried to leave through the door, but he ran into some sort of barrier." The taller man glanced away from Sakura—_finally, _oh, thank the Lord—to look slightly down at Zetsu. "A seal must have been activated when we were brought inside."

"_I haven't detected any seal or jutsu," _Zetsu's _other _voice—Sakura decided to call him Zetsu Two for clarity purposes—said, glancing with narrowed eyes at the door. _"Have you?"_

Kakuzu shook his head.

"Sakura?" Zetsu asked, looking down at her.

Sakura released Itachi to stand up and inspect the door. She felt around the doorframe, the hinges, the knob, the lock, _everywhere. _And she still found nothing.

Feeling slightly defeated, she turned back to Kakuzu and Zetsu and shook her head. "Nothing."

"Leader specializes in high-level jutsus," Zetsu said quietly, and Sakura almost didn't notice the hint of pride tingeing his voice. "It would be no surprise to learn that it is undetectable."

"Mm," Sakura said, and there was absolutely no reverence in her tone. Whoever this Leader person was, she already didn't like him. What the hell was he thinking, turning seven of the world's most dangerous criminals into cats? And then just dumping them off somewhere? Obviously he was either trying very hard to get rid of them in the most humiliating way possible or, like Zetsu had mentioned, punish them.

But really…_cats?_

"In any case," Zetsu muttered, taking Itachi into his hands, who merely looked up at him, and offered him to Sakura, "are you willing to heal him? I do not know nor do I wish to know of any history the both of you have, but I'm requesting that you look past all of that."

With a scowl and a huff of annoyance, Sakura snatched Itachi from Zetsu, who sat back on his shins and waited.

She passed her hands briefly over his form, hands glowing green, barely touching, but it was enough to heal the minor burns he'd obtained. When she was done, Itachi hopped from her lap to the floor, shook himself off, and bounded away.

Zetsu offered her a rare smile, Kakuzu huffed and ambled away, and Sakura felt a headache coming on.

O O O

Several tuna sandwiches, suggested by a very ravenous and very _crude _Hidan, and several bowls of tomato soup later, and each of her "children," as she so fondly decided to refer to them, had found objects to momentarily hold their interest.

And Sakura, ridiculously exhausted and having scarfed her own food in record time, collapsed onto the couch, arms sprawled about lazily.

Before she knew left from right and who the hell was approaching her from behind so quickly, two large, firm, unknown hands clapped over her eyes.

Fearing for the worst, because being in a room with seven villains who were more than likely _deeply _sexually deprived from their "condition" did things like that to a person, she immediately went into ninja-mode, hurling the stranger over her shoulder, where his back smashed into the coffee table.

He didn't break it, luckily, and her mouth dropped open at her assumed attacker.

Tobi grimaced from his place and bent his head to look at her upside-down. "Guess who?" he said weakly.

Oh, she felt like an ass.

…Well, not really.

As expected, Zetsu was the first upon the scene, appearing out of seemingly _nowhere, _still holding a book he'd apparently been thumbing through. Upon spotting Tobi lying on the coffee table on his back, looking in a fair amount of pain, he turned quickly toward Sakura. "What happened?"

"Tobi surprised me," Sakura explained, smoothing her hair back and reaching out a hand to help him off of the table. He took it graciously, rolling onto his feet and smiling.

Zetsu, still looking a bit…wary of her and the actions that had previously taken place, nodded.

And Sakura didn't miss this.

"Tobi?" she said, smiling and turning toward said man. "Would you go and get Kakuzu for me?" Really, she'd only said the first name that had come to mind in order to get him to leave the room, but now that she'd mentioned him, she couldn't do anything about it. She swallowed around a lump in her throat. "Please?"

Tobi nodded fervently before bounding off down the hallway toward where she assumed Kakuzu was.

Her little apartment wasn't _that _big. Where the hell was anybody, anyway?

"You wish to speak with me," Zetsu said. Not a question, a statement. He was always so sure of himself.

Sakura nodded and looked at him, looked at his eyes, golden and pretty and _scary, _his green hair that stuck out at all odd angles, the part down his middle separating the light and the dark, and she sighed long and deep.

"Perhaps we should sit down," he offered, gesturing toward the couch.

She took a seat, and he sat beside her.

"Zetsu," she began, now unsure of what to say.

"Yes?" The look he gave her spoke of nothing but innocence and a benign observation of her. But she knew better. She _knew _he was playing a game; she _knew _he was manipulating her and stringing her along to meet his own ends and to ensure the safety of his comrades.

He didn't have to say it. He didn't even have to show it.

She just _knew._

Because she…she would do the same.

And so in that respect, she couldn't really be mad at him.

"Zetsu," she said again, frowning deeply.

He didn't answer this time, just kept staring intently.

"Of all of the Akatsuki—and I'd never thought I'd say this—you're the one I can safely talk to the easiest."

He nodded solemnly.

"That doesn't mean I like you in the least!" she amended quickly, waving her hands in front of her in defense. "It just means you're the most bearable of the group."

No response.

She dropped her hands. "So…tell me what's going on." She faltered for a moment, at a loss for words. "I don't _want _to help you, but…something… Something's telling me I _should."_

He nodded again and looked down at his own hands, resting calmly in his lap. "I understand."

"And _please," _she pleaded, unsure of why she was doing so, "stop with the _lies."_

He almost looked shocked for a moment, eyes open wide, mouth parted a fraction of an inch. But then he turned his head away, staring at the blank TV screen. "…I understand." He took a breath before continuing. "What I told you initially was the truth. Our Leader wished to punish us, or perhaps rid himself of us. We were, for lack of more…eloquent terminology, useless to him. We had not successfully carried out his orders in more than half a decade."

"So the Akatsuki was falling apart, is what you're saying?" Sakura asked, staring at him cynically.

He made a noise of assent. "And rather than allow chaos to break free by telling us of his plans to close Akatsuki, he decided to dispose of us. However, he'd developed a relationship with each of us, and I hypothesize that he turned this jutsu upon us with the hopes that we _would _recover."

"I see." She looked down at her hands, as well. "Do you know how to dispel it?"

"I have gathered information," he said on a sigh, "over the years. I have scoured every literary facility available to me, though with my condition, you must understand that my time to collect said information was very limited."

"I can see how it would be a problem," she deadpanned.

"And the only way to dispel it for _certain _at this time," he continued, _"is to die."_

She recognized the abrupt change in voice and blinked up at him. _"Die? _But would dying in your cat…uh…form…affect your normal form?"

He nodded. "There has never been a time when it hasn't."

"I should have known by what happened to Itachi. Speaking of which, what was that? A seal?"

"I believe so. _I can't think of anything else it would be. But I don't remember there being any sort of seal with the grandma."_

"Grandma?"

"The elderly woman that took us in."

"I—"

"Tobi brought Kakuzu! Tobi brought Kakuzu!"

One glance up told her that her enlightening conversation with Zetsu and Zetsu Two was over. Kakuzu stood over the both of them as Tobi disappeared down the hall again, and he glared like he was ready to rip a head off.

Sakura's muscles tensed instinctively.

"Kakuzu," Zetsu said, "would you join us?"

Kakuzu took up his comrade's offer, taking a seat on the far side of Sakura, opposite from Zetsu. She suddenly felt very, very uncomfortable, because two very dangerous and very able-bodied Akatsuki members were sandwiching her in some sort of odd, morbid, botany-and-sewing-fetish mash-up.

She hunched her shoulders in.

"I was just explaining to Sakura our situation in greater detail," Zetsu continued on, waving at Sakura with the light hand. "It seems she is more willing now to cooperate than she was."

Kakuzu grunted, and Sakura flinched away from him. Toward Zetsu.

In turn, Zetsu glanced at her out of the corner of his strange, golden eye, enveloped by the dark skin around it.

What had she gotten herself _in_to? Really, seven S-class criminals, Akatsuki, _bastards _that she had wanted to _murder _not to long ago, were living in her home. And they were cute and cuddly and little balls of innocence one moment, where the next moment they were—

"Was it the prospect of death that made you change your mind?" Kakuzu asked.

Well, they were _that._

"It's not that," she tried to defend, pressing herself completely against Zetsu. "It's just that I…I'm too nice for my own good."

"Perhaps," Zetsu said with a wry smile, _"that will be your downfall."_

"Anyway," Sakura said with a wave of her hand, "could you explain to me what it was that injured Itachi?"

"But that's just the problem. We don't know," Zetsu replied, unruffled. "We were in the same predicament with the elderly woman. Unless she took us outside the property herself, we were unable to leave."

"That's why Itachi was able to sneak out of the fence the other day," Sakura mused, mostly to herself. "My property line extends into the alley out back."

"I think," Kakuzu began, leaning back, "that it activates as soon as we step foot inside a place of residence. We're stuck there until the owner decides to kick us out. That way—"

"—you can't escape," Sakura finished for him, looking down forlornly at her hands. So the decision really _was _all up to her. "Maybe I can find a way to break it. Do you know anything about it at all?"

"No," both boys—the _three _boys, because Zetsu Two technically counted as another being—answered at once.

Sakura leaned back, mimicking Kakuzu. "Your leader… Do I have any idea who I'm dealing with?"

Zetsu's lips quirked into a smirk. _"Not in the slightest."_

Top of Form

Bottom of Form


	4. IV

Take It or Leave It

**Take It or Leave It**

**IV.**

O O O

One week had gone by easily enough, she figured, for her to be able to deem some of her Akatsuki Kitties "safe." There were the few exceptions, of course, namely Kakuzu, Itachi, and Hidan. And sometimes Deidara. She could never be too sure about him.

But now arrived the problem of _work._

Of course she had to work come Monday—tomorrow—with it being the end of her vacation time, but the big issue was that she just didn't _trust _them alone in her home. As shown before, they couldn't leave the premises—unfortunately—but they _could_ make a sorry mess of things.

There were simply too many problems, she reasoned, sitting herself down on the couch with a cup of juice. She flicked on the television with the remote control, leaving it at a court program she didn't pay attention to.

The prevailing problem, as previously mentioned, was the fact that she worked three, four, sometimes even five days a week. She worked at the hospital, and while she wasn't one of the unlucky few who were on-call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, sometimes there _were _emergencies, and she couldn't exactly say no.

Well, not without looking like a frigid bitch, anyway.

The second problem was that all seven of her Akatsuki Kitties—she was unwarrantedly proud of her self-coined nickname for them—wanted to stay in their human states _all the time. _And she couldn't blame them, really. Hell, she wouldn't like being a cat, either. Or so she assumed.

They, being the criminal masterminds they were, managed to contract a device to keep them as humans for hours at a time. It was a skin-tight bracelet with a watch-sized bubble at the top, where water was held and kept against the skin. This kept them in constant contact with water, or at least until all of the water evaporated. A few of them had suffered minor skin irritations or swelling from it, but they didn't complain. And as well they shouldn't.

The only exception, of course, was Itachi.

There was no way in hell she'd let him be human around her. She wouldn't even be alone in the same room with him as a _kitten._

Back to the constant human issue, though, this opened up an entirely new can of worms for Sakura.

For one, it was simply too many people for her tiny apartment. They'd taken to camping in her living room, spreading sheets and blankets across the floor and occasionally fighting over who got to sleep on the couch that night.

Maybe this was why Sakura lay in the current state she was: wide awake, covers drawn up to her chin, staring up at the ceiling in frustration. Her bed was comfortable, sure, and the room temperature was fine, but there was simply too much on her _mind._ She still wasn't entirely sure what to do about this situation. Sure, she could pretend that housing all these…_people…_didn't unnerve her, but hell, the illusion wouldn't be kept up for long.

She did hold a minute amount of sympathy for them, though. They must have been through a long, horrifying ordeal, and she didn't want to think about how deeply it had scarred them.

Then again, they were _kittens._ Could she honestly take them seriously when they were like that?

Exactly.

With a sigh, she rolled over onto her side and flipped her pillow to the cool side. It was refreshing against her cheek, and she closed her eyes.

She was asleep soon enough, breathing deeply and evenly.

Of course, like all things in Sakura's life at this moment, it didn't last long.

She awoke what seemed like moments later, which was, in reality, more like _hours_ later, to the feeling that someone was staring at her. And when she rolled over, someone _was_ staring at her.

She couldn't quite tell who it was, but before she could find the presence of mind to mobilize, the man was waving his hands frantically. "No, no, no! Don't hit Tobi! Please!"

She stilled, cracking her knuckles when she clenched her fingers into a tight fist. "What is it, _Tobi?"_

With her eyes slowly adjusting to the dark, she could see the fuzzy outline of him in all of his no-shirt-but-a-convenient-pair-of-sweatpants glory, fiddling with his fingers.

"Tobi has…"

"Yes?"

"You see…"

"_Yes?"_

"Tobi is afraid!" he whispered hastily, bending slightly at the waist to stare intently into her face.

Sakura blinked. "A…afraid? Of what?"

"The dark! Tobi had a nightmare."

"Oh, for fu—"

"Can Tobi sleep with you tonight?"

"_No!"_

He clapped a hand over her mouth, which she protested lamely at, and pulled it hastily away when she nipped at his fingers. "If you yell, the monsters will come and get you!"

Angrily, she pulled his water-watch off of his wrist. Water spilled on the floor, and when she dabbed the blanket at the water on his arm, he turned into a kitten with a pop.

"You can sleep in the bed like that. But _only_ like that." For God's sake, she had to _work _in the morning and her slumber was _needed, _damn it.

Seemingly satisfied, he hopped up onto the bed, curling up at the foot.

It was kind of cute when she thought about it in that transient, abject way, but when she realized that a naked criminal was essentially sleeping at the foot of her bed, all she wanted to do was sleep away the stress.

Which she did.

_Thankfully._

O O O

He wasn't sure what she was doing, but he wasn't sure he wanted to interrupt her, in any case.

Because before his very eyes, golden and penetrating in what would otherwise be utter darkness, Haruno Sakura, their impromptu savior, crawled to his sleeping place on her hands and knees.

He sat up slowly, soundlessly, two emotions battling for dominance in his head. She's come to kill you, one said. She only wishes to speak, offered the other.

"Zetsu?" she whispered, and he knew then that the latter voice was correct.

"Yes?" he said just as quietly.

She crawled closer to him, finally opting for sitting on her shins on his designated blanket. "Zetsu…"

"Yes?" he repeated, softer this time, cocking his head. It was times like this that he was glad he'd lost his flytrap attribute in the recurring shuffle of kitten, human, kitten.

"I had a bad dream," she admitted, clenching two hands to her breast. "I'm sorry. I was…I was just scared."

He didn't know quite what to do. "I…I see…?"

"Is it alright if I sleep with you tonight?" she pleaded, staring up at him with those pretty green eyes, shimmering with tears. And though this picture was quite endearing in its tempting entirety, something was telling him that the situation was off. He couldn't put a finger exactly on it, but it felt—

"_Strange," _Zetsu muttered. _"Why come to me? Do I comfort you, little one?"_

She nodded quickly. "Yes."

The darker side of his thoughts quietly receded at this, apparently taking the hint that no, his input was neither required nor wanted.

He shifted over to one side of the makeshift sleeping bag made of sheets and blankets, patting an empty spot next to him.

She curled up next to him appreciatively, smaller than he remembered. And when she pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and brushed one of his bare feet with hers, that prodding, agitating presence in the back of his mind enforcing the thought that something was _off, _damn it, became all that much more persistent.

But he ignored it, because there were other matters at hand at this moment. Her hand, for example, took priority in the situation when it found the dip of his waist to settle into. And when her index finger brushed over his stomach to his navel, making him flinch, and then followed the color-split up to the bottom of his ribcage, _that_ quickly took up all of his attention.

He was at a loss for what to do, what to say, what to _think._ Sure, it was nice—why wouldn't it be?—but he'd barely known her, and she very apparently didn't trust him. He was the most trusted out of the group of "kittens," of course, but he still hadn't convinced her that she could confide in him. And with good reason. He knew who he was, and she knew, as well.

So this was why, with a much warranted face of puzzlement, Zetsu grabbed her wrist. "Sakura, I have to ask you to stop."

"Why?" she asked, pulling away from him gently in order to climb full on top of him, and his breath caught in his throat.

"It is…indecent. And irresponsible."

She giggled uncharacteristically—from what he knew of her, anyway—and leaned down to trace the curve of his ear with the tip of her tongue. And when she was finished, she whispered, "Who ever said I wanted to be responsible?" with lips that barely feathered over him.

And then there was a distant crash, and Zetsu's dream was brought to a stuttering, gasping halt.

He sat up abruptly, eyes wide and heavy at the same time. He felt like he'd just fallen asleep barely five minutes ago, and from what he could see, pandemonium had already erupted in the living room.

Hidan and Deidara were standing over a very shattered and very irreparable vase, tulips and leaves peppering the carpet as water began to stain it.

Hidan snarled. "Fuck."

O O O

Waking up with something warm and soft pressing against her bare stomach was actually a rather nice experience, Sakura figured. It soothed her muddled thoughts and left her with a little bit of an extra happiness boost for the rest of the day.

However, when that fuzzy thing turned out to be Tobi, who'd snuck under her shirt and was currently nuzzling against her stomach, that happiness abruptly vanished.

She thought about grabbing him by the tail and throwing him out the window. She thought about screaming. She even thought about letting it be, but that was a far-away, vague, _stupid_ thought.

Instead, she shoved him aside. He barely blinked.

Sakura sat up fully and yawned, stretching her arms out until they popped, doing the same for each of her legs. Tobi seemed to think well on the idea from his position on her bedroom floor, stretching himself out almost flat and unsheathing his claws, flashing a tiny, pink tongue and kitten teeth with his own yawn.

A crash from somewhere in the living room jolted Sakura out of her reverie, breaking off her second wave of stretches and leaving her with that uncomfortable just-out-of-bed feeling that she absolutely _hated._ Well, she mused, she should probably go into the living room to see what it was they had done _now._ Every other day was an adventure with these guys, and hour by hour, minute by minute, they were starting to look a hell of a lot less dangerous to her.

Stopping momentarily in the bathroom connected to her bedroom to make herself look halfway presentable, she entered the living room with a feeling like today was going to be another weird, stressful, insane criminal-filled day.

Deidara and Hidan whipped their heads around to stare guiltily at her when she entered. For a moment, all she could do was stare, and then a sharp lance of anger struck through her.

"That was my _mother's_ vase, you assholes!"

However, one glance at the clock told her that the least of her worries was an old birthday present. Cursing, she fled back into the bedroom, throwing on her work clothes. She brushed her teeth and hair in record time, tugging a backpack-slash-purse over her shoulder.

No time to think of the Akatsuki now; whatever happened, happened, and she would just have to deal with it.

Kakuzu caught her by her elbow just as she started out the door, swinging her backwards into him.

Pawing his chest for balance for a moment before she jumped back and wiped her hands on her skirt—good God, she'd touched his stitches; that was just gross—she scowled. "What? Can't you see I'm late?"

"Where the hell are you going?" he asked, and she could see the worry evident in his eyes. Maybe he thought she was abandoning them or something.

Scoffing, she righted the backpack-purse on her shoulder. "I'm going to _work._You know, to make money? To feed your fat Akatsuki asses."

Kakuzu looked slightly taken aback, and then he released her harshly. "How long are you going to be gone?"

"Why are you questioning me?" she snapped, and without giving an answer or a second glance, she was out the door and down the street, heading toward the hospital.

The rest of the day didn't turn out much better, with Naruto coming in_ twice_ with multiple fractures and a very inebriated, sexually aroused Genma. Tsunade thankfully sent her home after the lull around lunch, and Sakura decided to use that extra time to grab herself a cheap bite to eat and window shop.

Along her way she passed a grocery store, and her mind immediately flew to the seven veritable eating machines she had hoarded away at her house. Right after that, she thought about the depressing state of her fridge: empty.

Strolling sluggishly in the sliding doors, Sakura headed to the back of the store, planning to make a grand loop and save time. Those asses had better have cleaned up her vase.

After purchasing a large package of bottled water, bananas, cereal, milk, and various other essentials, she hefted the bags onto her shoulder and began the trudge home. Too bad Naruto was bitching around about his "fatal wounds" or she might have recruited him to carry some back to her house. Then again...she didn't want to think of what might happen should he come around suddenly and unexpectedly.

She was tempted to make an all-call for her "guests" to come and help her carry in the groceries, but decided against it. She didn't want nosy neighbors peering in to see not one but _seven_ men, all deathly familiar, filing in and out of her tiny apartment.

So she carried in the bags by her lonesome, wondering at the silence, and put them away methodically. And then she tiptoed down the hallway, because she was certain they were all up to something.

Finding Tobi sitting silently in the guest bathroom folding towels came as no surprise to her, and neither did Itachi and Zetsu's presence in the living room reading books on the couch, or even Deidara's poking around in her fridge. Kisame's rapt attention to the daytime cooking channel was a little odd—it was cocktail and steak time with Aika Yamamoto—but otherwise, Sakura could see no clear evidence of her current uneasiness.

She sighed and dropped her bag on the floor soundly, perturbed when all five of the located Akatsuki immediately stopped what they were doing to stare at her curiously. She _hated_ it when they did that.

They would peer at her when she entered the room or otherwise announced her presence, almost as if they expected her to start prattling off orders or something. She'd have to try that sometime… Meanwhile, there were criminals to pinpoint.

"Itachi."

He blinked at her. Did she honestly expect anything more?

"Where are Hidan and Kakuzu?" She was _sure_ it was them making her feel so weird. Where the hell _were_ they?

"I believe they went into your room while you were at work. They will most likely still be there."

Sakura sputtered. "W—what?" Itachi propped himself up with his elbow on the couch arm and continued reading. Sakura stomped to where Zetsu was sitting and glared at him. He gazed back at her, looking, for all intents and purposes, totally innocent. Yeah, right. Innocent.

"Why did you let them?"

Zetsu's expression went carefully blank. "Let who do what?"

"You know damn well who I'm talking about. Hidan and—and Kakuzu! They are in my room doing _God_ knows what with my stuff! I _do_ not want any of you in there unless I have given you _explicit_ permission." She paused for breath and counted to ten while she was at it. "You know, all of you depend on me for food and shelter. It would be a shame if all of that suddenly disappeared, wouldn't it?"

Without waiting to see Zetsu or any of the others' reactions, Sakura stormed down the separate hallway connecting the living room to her own room and stopped shortly at her bedroom door when she heard familiar voices from within. So they _were_ in there!

She knew they must've felt her presence outside the door, but maybe, just maybe, their attention was diverted enough for her to just lean over quietly and…

"Holy shit! Hey, stitch-face, look at _these!"_

Sakura clenched her fists. Surely not. Not even a man as vulgar as him would_ dare…_

"I swear to Jashin this woman has the weirdest taste in underwear. You'd never know just by looking at the bitch that she wears a thong. There's even fucking _lace_ on it! Hey! Are you listening to me? Why the hell are you looking in her journal when there are _underwear_ drawers to fuck with? Be a man, freakjob."

Oh, they were all going to die. _Slowly._

"Hey, you know what?"

Silence. Sakura slowly gripped the doorknob.

"What, you're just gonna ignore me? Fine. I'll just _tell_ you." There was another pause. _"This_ thong…reminds me of the first time I ever fucked."

Sakura heard Kakuzu snort, and there was a faint rustling of dime-store paper. "You? I would've thought a woman would run with fear as soon as you started taking your pants off. And aren't you supposed to be abstinent, anyway? Don't lie to yourself."

The sharp snap of waistband elastic as Hidan flung the thong across the room. "Oh, yeah? Well, _you're_ not too fucking gorgeous over there, stitch-face. And I can have a fuck whenever I fucking feel like it, shithead."

Kakuzu scoffed. "Well, _prove_ it, then."

Sakura blinked. Was that really Kakuzu in there? He was being awfully…dare she say it…playful. Were the whole lot of them putting up fronts in her presence just to prove a point? Of course, she admonished herself. It was only survival, on one hand. What with her rather harsh regime she had set up for them, what other choice did they have than hide their true—Sakura shook her head. No getting sappy. She had to survive _them_ as well.

Still, this was rather interesting. What would Hidan say next? It was just like a freak soap opera!

"Well—I just—why the fuck do you need proof? It's true! I'm not shitting you, man. Come on."

"Just like it was true about that prostitute being your wife?"

"Well, that was—I had to say something in front of the guys…it was just—oh, no. I will fucking _kill_ you! I swear to God I will kill you!"

"And now you're just whining."

Hidan made a choking noise, and for a while everything was so quiet—save for the continual flipping of her journal pages—that Sakura put her hand back around the doorknob—when had she taken it off…?—and prepared to burst in and raise some fucking hell up in there.

Hidan did a fine job taking over for her.

A deep, low moan permeated the silence, fluctuated by a series of high-pitched squeaks and some gasps for air.

"Unnnngh…uuuuuuummmmmphh…ohhhhhhh…eeehhh…"

Sakura blanched. What exactly were they _doing_ in there?

Kakuzu evidently had the same opinion. She heard him leap up from the bed, most likely taking a defensive posture of some sort. A moment passed where Sakura dearly wished there was a hole in the wood of her door to peek in.

"What the _hell_ was that?"

"That was…what the girl sounded like." She could almost envision the blush coloring his face, his voice strangled and soft.

Kakuzu snorted again. He certainly did that a lot, Sakura noticed. All men did, really…what was with that, anyway?

"What, was it a female _elephant?"_

Sakura couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. Inside, she could hear the two men start at the racket she made. All right, she wouldn't kill them _this_ time, just for making her laugh. She would just hide her journal better _next_ time.

…She was still going to kill them, though. Eventually.

Maybe.

She waited about five more minutes in the hallway, catching the attention of Tobi, who glanced at her curiously and returned to his business, and Zetsu, who grabbed her gaze and then promptly turned away.

Hidan and Kakuzu left presently, and even as Hidan continued on down the hallway toward the living room, Kakuzu stopped and stared.

Sakura cleared her throat. Why was she feeling like she'd done something wrong? _They_ were the ones who'd been snooping in her room!

He pulled her by the arm into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

A small tremor shot up Sakura's left arm, and she took a seat on the bed, ready to jump up at a moment's notice. Kakuzu was intelligent, sure, but he was also volatile. And she didn't trust him. Not at all.

After staring at her for a few moments more, he sighed and leaned against her bookshelf, pressing his fingers to his temples. "You and I both know this isn't going to work."

She stopped the trembling in her lip. "What isn't?"

He waved his free hand around the room. "Our living arrangements. We need to talk about a cure for our 'condition.'"

She shuffled her feet and picked at a loose thread on her skirt. "I tried. I actually asked around the hospital at work today, specifically about conditions wherein the victim or patient is turned into some sort of animal. All anyone could come up with was a temporary jutsu, usually lasting less than a few hours."

"So there's nothing, then?" he asked, and though his voice had dropped, he still sounded incredibly agitated.

She nodded. "Nothing that I can see."

She watched him stare at the carpet for a moment before he walked quietly out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

And Sakura just lay down on her bed and closed her eyes.

Things were getting more complicating, stranger, and definitely harder. She wondered, quite absently, how long it would take before someone eventually found out.

At that moment, Tobi popped his head in the door. "Sakura, a man named Naruto is here to see you. Zetsu is talking to him now, I think."

Her heart abruptly dropped into her stomach.


	5. V

Take It or Leave It

**Take It or Leave It**

**V.**

O O O

Tobi's words hit Sakura with the full force of a dozen kunai, or something equally pointy and unpleasant. She felt as if she were suddenly staring down a long, narrow hallway—one that led to her eminent execution. If Naruto were to come in here and see, what would he say? What would he _do?_ Itachi, Deidara, and Kisame especially needed to scram. She didn't think he'd seen Kakuzu and Hidan before, and Tobi had always had his mask on. Zetsu…she wasn't quite sure of. She hoped not.

"Can Tobi help?" Tobi tilted his head. An unspoken request for an order, a direction of some sort, and he seemed to be able to sense the seriousness in the air.

She nodded, shaking herself back into reality. "Yeah. Go find everyone. Take the water contacts away. Everyone go into my room and stay there until I come to get you, and do _not_ touch my things."

He took off with a wicked grin, and she almost felt sick.

But then she was skidding down the hallway, heart recovering from the fall to her stomach and currently pounding in her chest, and when she turned the corner in the hallway, she almost slipped on the carpet. But she caught herself on the end table, and when she got to the door, Naruto was turned around, shoulders hunched.

Had he seen? What was wrong with him? Was he crying? Shaking in disbelief? _What had happened?_

"Naru—"

He whirled around, and a very unhappy, very prickly-looking Zetsu sat arched in his arms, fur standing up at all ends, kitty face contorted into something that was very reminiscent of a snarl.

"Sakura, you didn't tell me you had kitties! Aw, look, he likes me! Who's a good kitty? Who's a good kitty?" He buried his face in Zetsu's back, who hissed. _"You're _a good kitty!"

The relief in Sakura's limbs made her feel heavy, and she leaned against the open door. "Oh, God, Naruto. He's going to kill you."

"Nah, he likes me!"

Zetsu scratched Naruto's cheek, adding another stripe.

And as deftly as he'd done that, he hopped right on over to Sakura, who caught him, albeit belatedly, in her arms. She laughed as he nuzzled into her biceps and purred.

Naruto thumbed at the mark on his cheek. "That's going to itch like crazy later on."

Reaching out a hand, Sakura healed it without a second thought. "Now it won't."

The blond boy grinned. "Aw, you should have left it. Would make a nice battle scar."

Sakura smiled, too, playing along with the game. "You can definitely tell that he's mine." She lifted Zetsu to be eye level with her, staring into those bright golden eyes. The kitten licked the tip of her nose with a rough tongue.

Naruto's grin threatened to split his face.

"He's just so cute." She hugged him to her, nuzzling her face into the fur at his neck, much like Naruto had done. Zetsu stiffened and then purred wildly under her ministrations. "I love this little guy."

_I love this little murderer, _was what it sounded like to Sakura in her mind, and she cringed inwardly.

"So anyway, Sakura, I just came over to tell you that I'm gonna be leaving soon."

"Leaving?" She hefted Zetsu onto her shoulders, and he settled comfortably beneath the curtain of her hair, the fur of his scruff warming her ear. He was still purring deeply, that calming, reverberating noise that made her want to close her eyes and fall asleep to it.

"Yeah." He kicked at some pebbles on the porch. "Have to go on a mission sometime around tomorrow afternoon. Shikamaru and some other guy are coming."

"How long will you be gone?"

He shrugged. "A while. It's not a difficult mission; it's just really, really long."

Zetsu was rubbing his cheek against her neck, just under the curve of her jaw, and his whiskers were giving her uncomfortable chills.

"Why don't we go out tonight, then? Go to dinner or something. It's been so long since we've hung out."

His whole face brightened. "That sounds great! What time?"

She heard a crash from somewhere in one of the back rooms, and the hair on her neck stood on end. "Uh…around eight sounds good."

"Cool, where do you want to go?"

"How about Toshi-Toshi? I've always wanted to—ouch, stop clawing my shirt, you little shit—go there."

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Okay! I'll see you then!"

As soon as he turned and left, Sakura tugged Zetsu off her, quite confusing the kitten in the process, and stomped down the hallway.

However, when she opened the bedroom door, all was quiet and calm. Each respective person—_kitten—_was curled up either on her bed or on her dresser, with the only exception being Hidan, who had taken sole residence upon her sunny window ledge.

She found this _achingly _adorable.

The crash, as she soon found out, had actually come from her bathroom. It had been a candle that was too close to the edge of the counter, and it had fallen to the tile below.

No harm, no foul, so she shoved Deidara, Kakuzu, and Tobi aside on the bed and lay down. Almost instantly, they curled into her side, warm and fuzzy and wonderful.

"Just going to take a little cat nap," she told herself, and then giggled like an idiot.

Zetsu hopped up on her stomach, still purring.

She smiled, forgetting for a moment just who exactly he _was. _Because right now, he was just her pet cat, the one with the pretty gold eyes and the dichromatic fur. So she forgave him when he crawled up to rub his cheek against her own, then against her ear, and eventually working his way down to the fingertips on her free arm. The other was occupied with three other kitten Akatsuki members.

He was still rubbing against her in a most loving manner when she dozed off, promising to wake in time to get ready.

A furry mass being rocketed into her face was how Sakura woke up to an hour later.

_Lovely. Now what the hell's going on?_

Two adorable kittens squabbling with a third was what was going on, and had been for quite a while, it seemed, if the tufts of fur littering the end of the bed were any indication. Zetsu was there now, backed up precariously near the edge of the bed while Hidan and Kakuzu were slinking towards him in slow, precise movements.

Sakura blinked, stuttered, and scrambled for the end of the bed, but the two were faster. In an instant, Hidan and Kakuzu had simultaneously rammed Zetsu, causing the lot to tumble on the floor in a fuzzy, writhing mass of caterwauls and thorn-like claws and teeth.

The rest of the Akatsuki, still in kitten form, seemed eerily content to watch the fight. Some, Kisame mainly, even looked excited, panting and displaying tiny kitten teeth as if wanting to join in.

_Hell if _that's_ going to happen._

Sakura leapt from the bed, nearly tripping over loose sheets in the process, and dashed to the bathroom, desperately trying to find her friend the water spritzer. Another idea struck her, and she turned the sink on, cupping water in her hands to take back. The moment she turned around to carry it back, though, the whole palm full ended up on the front of her shirt. Dammit.

The yowling was getting louder. At this rate, she'd have to clean blood off the carpet. Snarling—why did those fuckheads always have to get her all riled up?—she grabbed the nearest bottle of _something_ liquid-y and dashed it back to her bedroom.

Tossing down the translucent cap and failing to notice the suspicious pink contents of the glass container, she got as far back as possible and sprayed with all of her might. As the mist cleared, Sakura sighed. What wonderful _bottle_ discernment she had. So now she had three cats that were defensive, hissing, entirely too angry at each other, and smelled deliciously of magnolia.

_But they're not fighting anymore,_ she reminded herself. There was still business to take care of, however. Grabbing Hidan and Kakuzu by their prickling scruffs, still spitting up a storm, she returned them to the bathroom along with the perfume bottle she held in her teeth. The door clicked shut behind her and she locked it; she tossed Hidan on the floor and dropped Kakuzu rudely into the tub, turning on the showerhead at full power.

She barely registered the poof of dull, beige smoke before Kakuzu was sitting sprawled indecently in her bathtub, scowling up a storm and looking, for all intents and purposes, like he wanted to rip someone into tiny bits.

Sakura put her hands on her hips, unfazed by his nakedness. She threw him a towel, though, which he wrapped around his waist when he stood up.

"Now _what_ was that all about?" she asked, though the condescending attitude was muffled a bit by the sheer way he towered over her.

He narrowed his eyes, wet hair plastered to his face and occasionally catching on the stitches on his cheeks. "Zetsu. He's _pissing me off."_

"Why? What did he do?"

Hidan meowed loudly, angrily, and pawed and scratched at the bathroom door.

"Hush, you," Sakura whispered harshly at him before turning back to Kakuzu.

"He needs to stop touching you."

"_What?"_ A chill of panic lanced through her. Touching her? Was he doing this without her knowing?

"Yeah. _Touching you._ His scent's all fucking over you." He grabbed her wrist, holding the towel around his waist with a free hand. "Why are you _allowing_ that?"

She tore away from him. "Is there something wrong with you? His _scent?"_

"I can't smell it now. But when I'm in the other form, it's as clear as day. It's like a big 'fuck you' to the rest of us."

"Then why were only you and Hidan fighting him?"

"Because me and Hidan are the only ones with balls, _that's_ why."

Scoffing and turning around, she picked up Hidan by the scruff again, and then led Kakuzu out the door and down the hallway.

As soon as she got near the bedroom door and set a now-calmed Hidan down, Zetsu came careening out of the room, a smudgy blur as he tackled Hidan.

Hissing, screaming, and various high-pitched, catty sounds filled the hallway, and Kakuzu instantly grabbed Hidan while Sakura grabbed Zetsu. The two kittens immediately calmed in their hands, reverting to the instinctive submissive posture of a kitten being handled by its mother.

Sakura squinted her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. "Okay. Okay. You know what? I give up. I fucking give _up._ Kakuzu, go wet everyone down in the bathroom, I'm going to have to give the speech. _I_ am going to give the _damn_ talk to you bastards. I just _knew_ this was coming."

Kakuzu grunted his assent and plucked Zetsu from Sakura's hand, walking back into her bedroom with Hidan and completely ignoring the rest of her tirade involving the sorry circumstance in which she was the only female in a house with a million depraved men.

In the living room several minutes later, an irate Sakura gave a remarkable speech on the importance of chastity and self-control which fell completely on deaf ears, as they seemed to "forget" their water devices in convenient situations, therefore transforming Sakura into a pile of mush with their soft kitten-ness.

Plopping down on the couch in submission, Sakura allowed Kisame and Hidan to crawl into her lap and purr violently, completely missing the glares the two tossed at one another. She reached over shortly towards the furry pile down near her feet and grabbed the nearest scruff, only to be snarled at and scratched, albeit half-heartedly.

Ugh. Itachi again. Bitch. But Sakura wasn't going to let him get away this time; oh, no. He needed to learn some damn courtesy, anyway. With a huff, Sakura snatched him, writhing, up into her lap, where she pressed him down firmly and growled, "Be still."

He hunched up, stiff as a board. Kisame and Hidan watched the spectacle curiously while the rest of the kittens peered up from the carpet. Except for Tobi, who was sleeping in the sun, which was a considerably more entertaining pastime.

Sakura began to run her hand from between Itachi's ears down to where his fur tapered to a soft point, at the end of his tail. His fur was quite glossy; really, it was a shame he was such a maniacal bastard. She sighed, but beneath her hand, she registered a slight relaxation, then a shift, and finally a soft purr.

Giggling, she wondered just how quickly she'd be administered to the psyche ward if she strolled into the Hokage's office announcing she made Itachi Uchiha purr like the sweet, sweet baby kitten he was. And didn't all the Akatsuki just need a great big hug?

But, all intentional provocations for institutionalization aside, purring wasn't really that big of a deal. Cats created the sound for self-comfort, which pretty much meant that most of them did it around the clock, even while asleep. And some females even purred when giving birth. Still, it was _Itachi,_ for fuck's sake.

Gently, she placed him on the couch to her left beside Kisame where he lay in a black, fuzzy heap, drowsy from her ministrations.

_Now,_ Sakura pondered. _What to wear?_

She strolled back into her room amiably, ignoring the seven monstrosities that stalked her all the way there, and threw open her closet doors, trying to decide if she should wear that one green shirt that Ino got her whenever ago.

"What the hell," she muttered. "I'll wear a dress. Naruto's going away, after all, and he'd be all over that."

She hummed the entire time she pulled the green summer dress out of the closet, wondering, for the life of her, what the hell was _wrong. _Maybe Itachi had emitted some sort of retarded cat pheromone when she'd been petting him.

Could cats do that?

No, probably not.

Could _Itachi _do that?

…She wouldn't doubt it.

Shaking her head and smiling from ear to ear in an almost _eerily _uncharacteristic manner, she tossed together every item she would be wearing tonight. Some pretty white flats to match the dress, another clothing item courtesy of Ino, a white purse she'd had since she was about fifteen, and a nice little white scarf. Yes, she would look so undeniably…decent.

Some inner part of her, the cynic, waved a hand in front of her and reminded her that she had a house full of Akatsuki, Akatsuki that were kittens and _pooped _all over the place and _pissed _God-knew-where, which she could still smell to this day somewhere in one of the back bedrooms. She had no time for dates! No time for being happy! No time for anything but buying a litterbox ASAP and figuring out what the hell to _do_ with these fuzzy devils!

"Oh," she muttered to herself, worried for a moment about schizophrenia, "they don't do that in the house…often. Once or twice, but they're just _babies."_

Babies that were capable of leveling an entire village, apparently. Babies that derived enjoyment from being evil bastards, apparently. Babies that—

"Enough," she sighed, turning toward the curiously on-looking kittens and scooping them up in an empty laundry basket. They mewled angrily, but she ignored them, swooping into the bathroom and depositing them carefully on the tile. All seven of them stared up at her reproachfully before trying to meander around her legs and out the door, which she skillfully prevented. She managed to shut the door without any injuries, to _her _person or otherwise, and sighed, hands on her hips and basket by her feet.

"Right. Time for clothes."

O O O

Zetsu One and Zetsu Two were one simple kitten, really. Zetsu Two largely dominated over Zetsu One in this sort of form, his instinctual, naturally dominating personality largely taking control of the situation. It was compensation, maybe, for how little control he had over actions and thought processes as a human.

But still, being the ruler when in kitten form wasn't exactly something to be proud of. Especially when the only thing that really went through the kitten's head was "Food, sex, what the fuck, man, that bitch is mine."

He was feeling particularly jumpy around Hidan and Kakuzu lately, especially when both kittens arched and tensed whenever he neared them. Not surprisingly, they were prone to aggressiveness and unusually territorial for toms, especially over Sakura.

He thought for maybe a second over her, how she'd been treating them, how he was grateful for the things she provided, how he didn't feel in danger around her, as opposed to how he'd felt around the old woman. But then the paint on the bathroom cabinets distracted him, and he proceeded to thoroughly scratch at them, peeling off his claw sheathes and enjoying every second of it.

Deidara busily cleaned himself in the corner somewhere, momentarily catching Zetsu's interest. He licked spotless what he could reach of his stomach and moved lower slowly, eventually getting around to—

Zetsu ambled to the bathroom door and scratched, mewling gently. He was bored, and the other kittens were getting restless, as well.

Kisame joined him at the door, starting up a chorus of scratching and meowing. Tobi came soon after him, keeping in time with the others.

Soon, all kittens were scratching Sakura's door and yowling at the top of their tiny little lungs. And they were not happy with their less-than-prompt service.

It was to _everyone's _immense joy that Sakura finally opened that door, all dolled up and looking very different from the usual Sakura.

"Scoot, scoot," she said, and the kittens obeyed the foot that was threatening to sweep them away. She shut the door behind her, preventing any of their escapes, and began pulling out devices from under the counter, plugging them in and draping the wires over the faucet.

She turned to Zetsu, then, picked him up happily, and set him on the counter.

He stared at her expectantly, wide golden eyes calculating even as a kitten.

"You want to help me?" she asked excitedly, and Zetsu rubbed against her arm enthusiastically. If she was excited, he was excited. It just seemed _right _that way.

She scratched an area behind his ear, and he started to purr appreciatively.

"You're going to need to be a human to help me out," she mused, holding his head under the faucet and turning the water on. A soft cloud of smoke swirled around for a moment, and Zetsu jumped, making a very uncharacteristic grunting noise.

Sakura raised an eyebrow, keeping her gaze firmly planted _above _his pecs as she handed him a towel. "That was strange."

"Cold counter," he muttered, wrapping the towel around his waist and tucking it into place. "You need my help?"

"Yes, please," she said, grinning and handing him a clip. He stared at the item like it was some sort of ancient puzzle.

"When I hand you a strand of hair, I want you to put it in that clip, okay?"

Zetsu furrowed his brow. "You need help with your hair?"

She shot him a nasty look over her shoulder. "And? If you're not competent enough at this, I could always get Deidara to help."

Obediently, Zetsu snatched up all of her hair and clipped it back. A few pieces fell out, and he scowled at them. "I'd recommend not letting him lick you anytime soon, then."

"I don't even want to know."

Zetsu found that her routine of curling her hair was quite frustrating in all of its entirety. All he wanted to do was sit down or walk away, and this was some new kind of torture. She'd hissed a few times when she burned herself, but other than that, it was so _boring._

Thankfully, she finished up some twenty minutes later, shutting off the curling iron and brushing all of the pink hair on the counter into her hand. She tossed the loose hair into the trash, nearly tripping over Deidara on the way.

"Deidara, stop cleaning your dangly-bits in front of a lady," she admonished, and Deidara paused long enough only to stare up at her incredulously. But he blinked once and returned to his duties.

She began to put away her hair-doing materials, and at one point, she bent over in front of Zetsu to put away the now cooled curling iron.

It was such a surprise to have her butt pressing into his lap that Zetsu _actually _grabbed her hips, tensing and arching just a tad. It was instinctive; he swore it was instinctive.

In the split second that Sakura apparently registered that their position looked a bit more than _really _incriminating, several kittens looked at Zetsu as if they didn't quite understand, though they knew it was bad. Hidan and Kakuzu circled his bare ankles like sharks.

Sakura pulled away from him quickly, and he was left bereft of her…well…body. It sounded much worse than it actually was.

She quickly shuffled out of the room, embarrassed and quiet, and Zetsu followed her, stars faintly shining in his eyes.

O O O

_Dammit, dammit, dammit,_ Sakura scolded herself as she rushed out the front door, taking care to lock it behind her.

She ran out the gate and nearly barreled right into Naruto, waiting just outside her yard, who blinked and caught her by her upper arms.

"Look, Sakura," he consoled. "I know you want me bad, but you don't have to hurt yourself trying to get some of it."

_Smack._

Sakura sighed and lowered her purse, and Naruto whimpered and clutched his head as usual. The display, though commonplace, still made Sakura feel bad. Here was this nice boy trying to take her out to eat, and all she offered in return was a purse in the face.

A soft green light and a surge of warmth, and Naruto was as good as new, only this time with an adorably suspicious look on his face. And no small wonder, since hitting him was usually her cue to start rambling on about what an idiot he was.

That _look._ It was just so—

"Oh, Naruto," she wailed, choking him with a full-body hug. "I'm so stressed out right now I don't know what to _do!_ All this work—no missions—so bored all the time—those _stupid_ cats—I—oh, fuck, let's go to the restaurant before I collapse."

She sniffed and clutched her purse, feeling significantly better after that extremely random interlude. It almost made her forget about being almost-nearly-molested by an alleged killer.

Almost.

Grabbing Naruto's hand, she began tugging him towards the nearest sit-down, full service, cloth napkin, fine dining place she saw, fully intending to half the bill with the poor man. She needed this, anyway.

"So, Naruto," she chirped, glancing back at the disturbed Kyuubi-container, "tell me about your mission. As much as you can, anyways."

"Oh, well," he answered, relaxing a bit, "it's just the usual go-find-and-kill-someone deal. You know, just—just normal."

She raised an eyebrow. "Uh _huh."_

"Hey! At least there's no Akatsuki out and about anymore, what with that weird incident way back when." Naruto took her startled pause as an incentive to trot up aside her, his manly pride demanding him not to be pulled around by someone half his size.

"Yeah," Sakura muttered, glancing in a nearby shop. Naruto peered at her, probably regretting taking this emotionally distraught and mood swinging bundle of fun and laughs out to dinner.

"You okay? You don't look so good," he whispered.

Sakura whipped her head around and looked into his eyes before telling him the biggest lie of their entire friendship.

"Oh, I'm fine, just tired, you know. I should take a nap when I get home. It's not you or anything. Let's just get in here and try to have fun, 'kay?"

He beamed and took her arm. "My pleasure, my lady."

"No, Naruto," she laughed bitterly. "Really, it's all mine."


	6. VI

Take It or Leave It

**Take It or Leave It**

**VI.**

O O O

The front door slammed shut satisfyingly behind her, and for a moment, Sakura leaned against it—somewhere between calm and lethargic—pretending that several sets of eyes, _human_ eyes, weren't watching her warily from the living room beyond the kitchen. Had they been waiting up for her? She glanced at the clock on the stove. Nearly midnight.

Okay, so she had been out a _little_ late, but time flew by fast when she was with Naruto, it seemed. Besides, as shinobi one never knew when your friends would leave you and never come back. It was important to relish in the time granted to you.

Sakura headed over to the couch, where dark shadows scooted over to make room. Deciding that plopping herself down on the floor purely to spite them was a waste of energy, she took advantage of the empty place, belatedly realizing she hadn't turned the lights on, or even locked the door.

"You're awfully quiet," she remarked on a mumble. A body shifted to her right, and she turned her head, barely making out Tobi's worried hair in the moonlight from the window. To her minute surprise, his expression was grim and distressed.

"Tobi—we thought you might have left us."

Some crickets started up a chorus somewhere in the night, and Sakura stopped to listen for a while.

"Why…would I leave? This _is_ my house, you know."

Tobi looked away, and a slender body strolled directly in front of Sakura's sprawled-out legs, the bi-colored skin giving away the identity.

"He means that we thought you may have decided to turn us in after all," Zetsu admonished. "It was very worrisome for us all, and it usually is, now that we live our lives completely dependent on the whims of a woman."

Sakura removed her scarf and tossed it to the floor testily, scanning the room and trying to find everyone. It made her nervous when she didn't know. Tobi beside her on the couch, Zetsu in front…where was Itachi? A red glint caught her eye and she glanced towards the corner of the room, where an intimidating form leaned against the wall glaring at her, almost vengefully. Well, _that_ was a bit disconcerting.

"Well, if you think you all can have better lives somewhere _else,_ then by all means _go_ there. _Please._ At least go _outside,_ for God's sake. My best friend is practically deserting me and I have a house full of hard-bitten criminals that everyone hates. Someone just _kill_ me, why don't you."

Zetsu closed his eyes.

"We mean you no harm, Mi—Sakura. We are all trying to make the best of this situation."

_Yeah, right._ Now who was on her left, then? She vaguely thought of sending out a tiny chakra probe, but that could be interpreted as fear, and they'd certainly be right. Better to just turn and look. Blue eyes stared apprehensively back into her own as Deidara chewed on his lip, saying nothing, which was certainly abnormal in _any_ situation.

Kakuzu leaned on the couch behind the blond and observed her suspiciously with a stony façade, and further behind him was Hidan, who was outright seething. She could feel Kisame directly behind her, but didn't feel particularly moved to tip her head back and stare at him. That would just be…weird.

So apparently, they all thought she was going to turn them in to Tsunade. Oh, wonderful. Now she had a houseful of _scared_ criminals, which was certainly more consternating then the former situation. It was almost surreal. In the beginning, it had seemed like there was a kind of bond between them all, however disturbing and unnatural, and now all that remained was a simmering hate. Great, now she was _poetic_ about it.

She looked back at Itachi in the corner again and a completely undesirable, uncomfortable empathy seized her. They were all murderers and whatnot, true, but no one really deserved to be zapped into kittens and practically enslaved and caged by an emotionally unstable, pink-haired girl. But the times that she had with them, willingly or not, that actually made her smile made her think. Wouldn't it be great if they all just got along and had some sort of freaky system of survival?

The situation was almost enjoyable and depressing at the same time. No, wait. It was both. There was no time to plan out a chipper new life now, though, because Zetsu still waited for a reply, looming over her like an elephant. Or…something. Sakura let out a stifled snort of laughter, her juxtaposition of emotion overtaking her calm exterior.

She looked up at the silent man with tears forming in her eyes, partly out of stress, partly from her revelation that yes, she had been a total bitch for most of the little adventure, but mostly from exhaustion, and probably a lack of stable companionship.

"I know you're trying to make the best of it. I'm sorry that I can't be a nicer person. I never really was. It just slaps me in the face from time to time."

A hand touched her own in the darkness and she shied away. Tobi.

"Tobi thinks you're a nice person, Miss Sakura. Don't you think she's nice, Zetsu?"

"Sakura, we—oh."

She never heard exactly what it was Zetsu wanted to say; she was already asleep on Tobi's shoulder.

O O O

By the next morning, Sakura had come to a decision to leave. Not to relocate or turn in convicted criminals, mind you, but just a trip to ease her mind and soul: a lovely, B-Rank reconnaissance mission to Somewhere That Isn't Here.

Waking up that day had been an interesting experience, to say the least. She felt belatedly embarrassed at actually falling asleep in their direct and disquieted presence, but that thought was somewhat squashed by the fact that she was in her bed with the sheets pulled primly over her body. How disturbing. So who had put them there…?

Deciding the best thing to do would be to _not_ think about it, Sakura rolled out of bed and stood up on the mercilessly cold hardwood floor (where the hell was that rug?), stretching and yawning and trying to wake up the rest of the way. She sighed and looked around. Strange…there wasn't a kitten to be seen. For that matter, there were no sounds coming from the living room, or the bathroom, or—alarmed, Sakura peered out of her bedroom door down the hallway. No one.

"Huh. Where _are_ those guys?"

Not that she cared or anything, it was simply important to know where they were at all times because…oh, hell. Sakura snatched a pair of pants from her bed, jerked them on, and stomped into the living room, where numerous blankets and pillows lay stacked by the couch. How surprisingly adorable. And judging by the smells in the kitchen, breakfast had been cooked, but there were no dishes to be seen. _That_ was just plain weird. Men were not supposed to know how to do dishes properly.

So if they weren't in her room, the bathroom, the spare room, the closet, the kitchen, or the living room, then… Sakura ran across the kitchen, skidded to a stop in front of the back door, and peered into the garden beyond. There! One, two, three, four, five…six kittens, with one Zetsu in the lawn chair.

But as she watched, Zetsu—_poof_—turned back into a kitten, extracted himself from the sweat pants, and trotted over to where Kisame and Hidan were playing Stalk Things That Are Immobile. Itachi watched them with half-lidded eyes, and then a butterfly fluttered by, which he proceeded to chase across the yard before stopping with a jolt. He washed his tail furiously, probably embarrassed, and Sakura tried very hard not to cackle. Tobi, previously napping under the cherry tree, wandered to a water puddle, doused himself in water and, in human form, picked up where Zetsu left off, though he nearly forgot to put the sweat pants on.

She would have liked to believe that she was a hidden witness to this strange (totally sweet and cuddly) affair, but the rigid set of his shoulders told her he was aware of her presence, and wary besides. Well, what the hell, then.

The back door slammed and Sakura wandered over to the lawn chair, which, embarrassingly enough, took up a noticeable area of her tiny backyard. Maybe she should consider moving in the future…

"Hi, Tobi," she mumbled. "Morning."

Tobi glanced back at her, a somber expression taking over his normally boyish, laughing attitude. Somewhere inside herself, Sakura felt like beating herself over the head with a metal rod. Was she _really_ that much of a bitch? God, she needed to get away from these crazy people. They were turning her senile and pissy at a young age. But first, strategy. It wasn't like she could just leave all of a sudden. That would be…way too satisfying. Right.

"Good morning, Miss Sakura," he mumbled back.

Should she mention the incident last night? After all, she'd pretty much acted like a complete control freak, and then she fell _asleep_ on one of them. And _then,_ of all things, one of them had carried her to bed, apparently.

But that was irrelevant for now. Now, all she wanted was a plan of escape.

"Hey, Tobi, I'm…gonna go to work now, 'k?"

Oh, yes. That was the pinnacle of brilliance.

"Okay."

So Tobi had resumed his kitten-watching, and Sakura now found herself standing in front of the Hokage's office.

The double doors loomed forebodingly before her, despite the fact that she came here nearly every day. No doubt, Tsunade already knew she was here just outside the doors, so it would be foolish to turn and run like a scared chicken (or some other overly publicized animal) when all Tsunade would do would be to run her down and demand to know what the problem was. That was the thing. Tsunade _always_ knew when Sakura was down about something. Dammit.

And so she pushed the doors open and walked in on a startled and guilty-looking Tsunade, who was hunched over in her chair and looking at something under her desk. Wait, what the hell was going on here?

"Sakura!" The voluptuous blonde sang happily. "I didn't know you were coming today! What a surprise! Well, I have plenty of things for you to do if you'd like some work to do, things that I will have to organize, eh, after you step _outside_ for a moment…" She cleared her throat. Okay, so Tsunade was having mental problems, too. Well, might as well spit it out.

"Lady Tsunade," Sakura pleaded in her most pitiful pleading voice, "I need a mission."

Tsunade didn't hear, but that was because her attentions were again focused on that something under her desk. Her eyes were darting back and forth, so it definitely had to be something in writing, but…

"Lady Tsunade!"

"What?" The irate Hokage snapped back, still keeping her head down. "I'm trying to _do_ something here, can't you see?"

"Yes, I can."

Because she had stepped around behind the desk to snoop and all she found was Tsunade looking at a paper with a block of words on it. About Jiraya.

"Well," the Hokage sighed. "The bastard's gone and disappeared again. Probably more research," she grumbled, laying her head on folded arms. "Where's Shizune? I should have her—no."

Suddenly a brilliant idea stuck the woman, which was never good for Sakura when Sakura was around to witness the phenomenon. The last Brilliant Idea was still branded on Sakura's mind, and she still didn't think it was a good idea to cure broken arms with a mixture of orange juice and milk. I mean, vitamin C and calcium were good and all, but still.

Sakura waited for the verdict, hoping it didn't contain one ounce of orange juice.

"You said you wanted a mission, didn't you?" Her teacher asked, looking like a really, really bad movie detective. "I have a mission for you. B-class espionage reconnaissance type of thing. Highly important, so obviously the pay will be well enough to get you through the next _year,_ even. Does it interest you at all?"

Something was up, obviously, but what with seven kids at home, it was hard for a woman to keep up with society these days with no work, so Sakura accepted the fishy mission, and was now walking home with the mission scroll, pondering her situation. It would seem it was an out-of-country mission, which was glorious and made of happy, sparkly things.

Apparently some old, feudal lord had been acting squirrelly and Tsunade just wanted a checkup on him. The pay was phenomenal, but that was probably just Tsunade's bias towards her favorite student, since the profile didn't sound a bit like B-rank stuff.

_Well, what am I going to do now? I'll obviously have to leave all the guys at home, which I don't exactly like, but I guess it has to be done. Hopefully they won't raise hell about it when I tell them. They pretty much invaded my life, but I guess I owe them some courtesy for not being outright assholes, which is very much in their power. Wait, gotta get some groceries…_

So Sakura stopped at the grocery store and bought bachelor food, which basically meant lots of things in cans in which the only directions were, 'put on a stove and heat for ten minutes on medium-high.' They could do that, right? She hoped so. If they couldn't, maybe they'd all give her some relief and starve to death. Of course, immediately after the thought, a wave of grief swept over Sakura like shoppers to a blue light special. God damn it all.

When she got home, deciding to jump the back fence just for the hell of it, Sakura found no kittens in her yard, which was as expected. Instead, her arrival into the kitchen was met with basic silence, and Deidara, who had been standing near the sink in his stolen sweat pants. The weird thing was, when Sakura had put down the grocery bags to turn and ask him to put a can away where he was standing, he had mysteriously vanished, and a peek into the living room revealed blonde hair swishing down the hallway and out of sight.

"What's up with him? Oh, well," she muttered to herself. "Tobi! Could you come here for a second?"

A beat, and then a lump on the couch reared up and revealed itself to be the brown-haired man, previously wrapped in a polyester blanket. He nearly skipped into the kitchen, probably happy to be of some use. They were all bored out of their skulls, most likely, suffering withdrawals over the fact that none of them had killed a man in months. How sad.

"Yes, Miss Sakura?" Tobi smiled, and Sakura felt another dagger pierce her heart. Okay, now it was just getting ridiculous, and they were all putting weird, affection-spurning jutsu on her, because—"How can Tobi help you? Do you want help with dinner? Or—or Tobi can clean, or—"

Sakura giggled, and it felt really good. If it weren't for this guy, she'd already be in the insane asylum by now. Maybe when all was said and done, she'd keep Tobi around just to liven up her mood. Him and Naruto could make a team. The Make Sakura Happy Team. Yeah.

"No, Tobi," Sakura sniffed and wiped her eye. "I just need you to go get everyone again in the living room. It's really important, all right?"

"Okay!"

He was off in a flash, bounding down the hallway…into her bedroom. Sakura sighed.

"They'll never stop going in there, would they?"

"Actually, your room seems to be a place of solitude for us. We had hoped you would not be averse to our going inside. Hidan has not been in your clothes since you caught him last time. _Call it guilt, if you may."_

Sakura squeaked and jumped nearly a mile at the sound of Zetsu's voice, seemingly projectlied from nowhere. Glancing around frantically, she eventually found him in the floor near the fridge, on the other side of the kitchen. _In_ the floor. Actually, it was more like _halfway_ in the floor. Still, it was pretty freaky either way. The floor almost seemed to _become_ a part of his body, moving and flowing with his emergence as he extracted himself from the linoleum to stand beside a very perturbed Sakura.

Zetsu, maybe noticing her tenseness, didn't hesitate to explain in a few sentences that served to freak her out even more.

"Although we have been altered, it seems that our abilities as humans have not been subdued in anyway; and we even notice changes when in our other forms. I have a particular ability to blend in with the carpet, for example. _It's wonderful when you're trying to keep a sunning spot all to yourself. Keeps the others away." _

And now he was talking about taking naps in the sun like it was normal conversation. This was just—

"Tobi has everyone now, Miss Sakura."

—_totally_ crazy beyond normal human thought processes. Because as she looked into the living room again, Zetsu had already settled into his spot in front of the couch, and the rest of them had silently gathered there, waiting and watching. Staring, more like. And she just stood there in the kitchen, holding her scroll and looking dumb.

Clearing her throat, Sakura strolled into the living room to her respective place in front of the coffee table and tried to pretend the group of men before her was a panel of doctors. Or a bunch of giraffes, maybe. _Something_ that wasn't a bunch of evil, possibly lascivious men.

"Well," she sighed, "I'll just get straight to the deal here. I'm going on a mission out of the country, and I won't be back for a week."

An odd surge of deja-vu jumped through her brain, and when she saw all seven pairs of faces go disturbingly blank for a heart-stopping moment, she knew she'd just stepped into a rather disastrous situation.

She really needed to make a mental note to _stop _abusing these guys' abandonment issues.

"Well, what the _fuck," _Hidan declared, breaking the silence and shooting her a glare that could melt bones. Seriously. "First you threaten to turn us in, and now this?"

"There's nothing I can do about it," Sakura defended, feeling a weary sigh coming on. "I can't exactly say 'No, thank you," and be on my merry way."

"You should have had the foresight to anticipate and _prevent _something like this," Kakuzu said, looking significantly more grouchy than normal, but not throwing an explosive tantrum like he had last time. Her poor coffee table wouldn't be able to take it.

"Excuse me for not being psychic," she said, rolling her eyes. "I would just take my vacation time now, but I was doing that just before you all showed up." She was about to continue with something biting and harsh and utterly _perfect _for that egotistical, sarcastic prick, but she found that having someone pet your head like a kitten was rather disconcerting.

She heard Deidara speak before she could really comprehend what was going on. "Tobi, what are you _doing, _yeah?"

Tobi pressed his nose into her neck, laying his cheek on her shoulder. "She shouldn't be blamed so much." Hands moved from petting her head to grabbing her around the waist, and Tobi's _lips _were on her neck, and Sakura was just about to have a panic attack. "Tobi feels bad for Sakura. We don't give her enough credit."

Sakura very clearly saw Zetsu's face, the way it was concentrated firmly on only Tobi, stern, calculating, mildly frightening, but then she didn't see anything, because a broad, (thankfully) clothed chest was obscuring her vision and pulling her into a fierce hug.

She suddenly found herself playing the role of complimentary condiments in a Tobi-Hidan sandwich.

Oh, God, she was going to die, wasn't she?

Hidan tightened his grip on her, wrenching her away from Tobi and throwing her over his shoulder, strutting toward the hallway. Sakura yelped and contemplated fighting back. He didn't seem like he was being violent.

"See? Someone could just fucking pick you up and whisk you away to some weird fuck-lair of doom, and where would we be? We'd be fucked, that's where." He shoved her off him, and she landed expertly on the ground in front of him.

After Sakura received a rather unamused look from Hidan, said foul-mouthed, silver-haired man rapped her forehead softly with his knuckles and frowned. "You've seriously got to start getting some wits about you. You die, we die. Got it?"

"But I thought you were immortal?"

"Doesn't matter. You die, we die."

"_She won't die."_

It was said with such calm, collected certainty that Sakura was confused for a second as to who had even voiced the thought. Surely none of _her _Akatsuki kittens?

As expected, Zetsu was right behind the pair, _had _been right behind the pair, watching their exchange with increasingly apparent disdain. _"She can't die."_

Hidan scoffed and folded his arms. "You're deluded."

"_I'm confident."_

"That doesn't mean you can't be deluded."

Sakura saw a very dangerous, volatile exchange taking place, one that didn't even have to be put into words. It was obvious by the jagged edges of their tones, the sharp eyes in their expressions, and their respective stances. Defensive, opposing, condescending and challenging in the worst way possible.

"She will not die," Zetsu restated, sparing a glance to Sakura.

"And if she does?"

There were several suffocating moments in which Zetsu said nothing, only stared. Then, _"She won't."_

It was an odd experience for Sakura to hear Zetsu Two speaking so much, when she rarely ever heard his voice at all. And when she did, it lasted for only a second, like she'd heard him wrong or it was just the television in the other room. But here he was, making a grand appearance, the same personality, the same Zetsu, just…a bit less formal. It was as if someone or something had piqued every last sense he held within that strange, bi-colored body of his.

Zetsu was, she realized with the body-shock that normally came with grand epiphanies, _jealous _of Hidan.

Of…Hidan?

That was so…stupid. If _anybody, _it was probably _Tobi _that he should—

Hidan swept past the both of them, biting his tongue and settling for shaking his head. When the man was well out of eyesight, Zetsu turned to Sakura, looking utterly impassioned, as per the usual.

"Are you alright?"

"No, he raped me in the ten seconds that we were out of everyone's line of vision."

Zetsu furrowed his brow, and Sakura sighed.

"I'm kidding, Zetsu."

The return to the living room was largely uneventful. "Okay," she sighed, hands on her hips, "does anyone _else _want a chance to batter, bruise, and otherwise maim me? Or can I get on with it?" She felt like she was teaching at the academy, with the way they were acting.

It was Kisame who spoke up first, though he sounded surprisingly content. "When are you leaving?"

"Tonight."

There was a quiet murmur among her wonderful audience.

"Maybe someone should go with you, yeah," Deidara offered, and Sakura was oddly delighted at the concern in his voice. Then again, she was his ticket to getting out of this mess. She'd probably be concerned, too.

"No, I'll be fine," she reassured, and she smiled. "I'm a big girl. I've done things like this plenty of times."

"Where are you going to be going?" he asked. He'd been avoiding her earlier. Why was he talking so much now?

"Reconnaissance mission. I can't tell you where I'm going."

"Don't you think it would be safer to tell us, yeah? What if you get into trouble? We could help you."

Oh, that was hilarious. "Oh, really? Just come help me? That's it? Just, you know, come gallivanting in up on your high horses and save me from such a dangerous world?"

He wrinkled his nose at her.

"You're the _Akatsuki. _Someone would _notice _you. I'm lucky no one's noticed you _yet!"_

"It was just a suggestion, damn. You must be on your period or something."

That was it. That. Was. It. "Listen, you sadistic son-of-a-bitch. I'm going on this mission. I'm leaving tonight. _None of you _are coming with me. I'm going to get a break from you people if it _kills me."_

"Which it very well might," he deadpanned. "And that's exactly why at least one of us should go along, yeah."

"Are you volunteering?" she shouted, gritting her teeth. "I sincerely, _sincerely _hope you are, because I will be all too glad to showcase you to the guards at the gate, kitten or not. I think you'll find that Konoha's prisons quite suit you."

"That's enough," Kakuzu growled.

"_Fuck_ you," Sakura growled right back. "I'm tired of _all_ of you! I need a week's break. I'm going to be okay. I'll come back. I'm not spineless and I'm not going to just _leave _you. Okay?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She stormed into her room, slammed the door behind her, kicked a lone sock across the room, and then started furiously packing.

O O O

Later that night everything was ready in her bags, and now she spent fifteen reclusive minutes in her bedroom getting dressed in her usual mission outfit, complete with the red shirt and the little shorts and everything. Now all she needed to do was fill her pockets, compartments, and hidden doodads with some senbon, some tampons (you never know when you need those things), and a random kunai sprinkled here and there.

She had fixed dinner one last time and made it really well in a halfway-decent attempt to convey her relative harmlessness. It was really some sort of bizarre, subconscious, psychological thing to make sure they didn't think she was leaving, and that sort of thing. She really had no idea if they liked it or not, since they were too busy stuffing their faces with food to tell her.

Except Itachi. That man ate like a bird. Swiftly, in small amounts, peering around himself often, and occasionally he even swiveled his head all the way around due to fourteen loosely connected neck vertebrate, which developed over time to serve in this manner for safety purposes.

Well, maybe not that last part. But still.

Sakura snapped the last poisoned senbon safely in her specially formulated poisoned senbon waist pouch compartment (it was a pencil case from her academy days, but no one had to know that), and stood there staring at her bags for a moment, trying to think of something she forgot. True to Sakura tradition, it came. Soap!

Luckily the guest bathroom light was still on, and she dashed in from across the hall and scanned all the cabinets wordlessly, aware of the eerie silence from the living room, which had become some sort of fucked-up Akatsuki Lair of Death as of late. Well, damn them. Damn them to hell. They could _have_ the stupid living room.

Grabbing the boring, white, unscented soap that was the best for missions where hiding was involved, Sakura ran back into her room and threw it in the bag with her equally boring, white, unscented shampoo, stopping once more to think if she had everything. Her duffle bag was closed, which was odd since she always left them open until the moment she left, but she was running late anyway, so she grabbed all her luggage and hauled it into the kitchen, looking back at the couch-turned-mini-frat-house one last time.

"Okay, guys, I'm leaving," she called over her shoulder from the open door. "There's lots of cans and stuff in the pantry, so you'll be good on food. Hidan, don't run my water bill up. You only need ten minutes to take a proper shower, anyway. Itachi, thank you for putting my books in alphabetical order. That was…very nice of you. Uh…someone drink my pomegranate juice before I get back, 'cause it'll be expired by the time I get home, and that stuff was really expensive. Bye, everyone."

She sprinted out into the night with a chakra-enhanced stride, over her fence, the neighbors', a quick stop at the gate for a scroll check, and then she was out and away from Konoha, leaping trees in the dark forest, too far away to see several kitten-cursed men exchange wry smiles.

Top of Form

Bottom of Form


	7. VII

Take It or Leave It

**Take It or Leave It**

**VII.**

**A/N: **(Aelibia)The original plot of this chapter is totally turned around from our original idea. You don't even want to know what _the_ original mission was. This one is about a bazillion times better.

O O O

It was nice, to say the least, for her to be out and about when so many other pervading factors had been commandeering her life. The forest was thinning out and the soft, mossy soil beneath her feet had turned to packed dirt, indicating the approach of more desert-like scenery. She was nearing the borders of Wind and Fire, though she couldn't say she minded. This was the perfect backdrop, in her opinion—a few trees and bushes here and there, ground that didn't slip out from under your feet, and a blue sky that went on forever.

She'd slowed to a light jog once she'd hopped down from the canopy, but now she was walking. She wouldn't pass up this scenery for anything, especially since it was quiet, save for a few tittering birds and her own footsteps. The forest was always loud with too many animals and too little space. And the desert was deafening in its silence.

So for now, while the weather was perfect and everything in her life seemed _finally _at peace, she'd enjoy it. There was no need to exhaust her energy and chakra by running, there was no need to wrap her mind around what was to come. The Akatsuki didn't exist, as kittens or otherwise, and they certainly didn't live in her house. She didn't suspect that two or more were developing feelings best left unsaid for her, and _of course _she wouldn't even _dream _of thinking that it wouldn't be too bad for her to reciprocate those unsaid feelings.

She stuffed her hands in her pockets, suddenly feeling awfully downtrodden, and kicked a rock a couple of feet in front of her. It rolled to a wobbly stop beside another, larger rock, onto which a dove fluttered and began to preen. Sakura stopped in her tracks, watching it with mild interest.

It removed its head from under its wing and cocked it sideways, surveying first the forest and then Sakura. It hopped sideways once, twice, called softly, and then fluttered to a branch right above Sakura.

A white dove. Those were supposed to be lucky.

Sakura sighed and continued on, leaving her pretty friend behind, where its melancholy little coos faded until she couldn't hear them anymore.

Stupid dove. Stupid symbolism. "Stupid Zetsu."

With the mood effectively destroyed and Sakura wondering how _they _managed to affect her even when they weren't around, she decided to center her mind once more on her mission. And with that, she'd might as well check her mission summary.

She slung her pack around to her front and rifled through the contents, feeling for the slip of paper. She touched a few bags, some stray clothes, something soft…

Something soft that she didn't remember packing…

Setting the pack on a nearby rock with growing irritation, she fully unzipped it and pulled it open as wide as the mouth allowed it. A few miscellaneous items were shoved aside until she grabbed the unknown soft material and it _growled._

It _growled. _Inanimate objects didn't growl.

She was sorely, sorely tempted to dropkick the pack right back into Konoha then, but disregarding the fact that this feat was impossible even for _her, _she also needed the contents of said pack. The contents, anyway, that weren't fuzzy, warm, alive, and _Kakuzu._

"You son-of-a-bitch," she grumbled, pulling Kakuzu out by his scruff. He dangled limply from her hand, heavier than she remembered, stitches around his mouth pulled down into a kitty-frown. "What are you even _doing _here?" He didn't answer, of course, with anything other than a cursory glance-over of her stance.

She set him down on the rock and pressed her palms over her eyes, scowling and wishing someone would instantly invent a time-traveling jutsu, and then drop it on her head. That way, she could go back in time to before the kittens were on her doorstep and make sure that she took them to the animal shelter immediately after finding the box. That way they wouldn't have developed a dependency on her, and that way she wouldn't have realized that they were Akatsuki, and that way she wouldn't feel anything more than weary, careful remorse for giving away a boxful of helpless kittens.

A distinctly different meow sounded from somewhere near her feet, and when she looked, amid multiple inner choruses of swear words and prayers, there was Zetsu, licking a paw and casting glances her way. Kakuzu jumped down from the rock and followed suit.

The sudden upsurge of anger in her esophagus was expected and well deserved.

"You assholes!" Sakura stood up on the rock and screamed at them for all she was worth, and to hell with the possible threat of nearby danger. "What the _hell_ are you thinking? Who do you think you are, my fairy Godmothers?" She shook a fist at them angrily, both of them staring frightfully at her, ears laid flat back. "I ought to punch _both_ you fuckers to the stratosphere! Oh, no you don't. Don't you _dare."_

Zetsu had begun to creep over to a puddle, most likely planning to do his little pacifying stunt. Like hell she was going to let that happen _this_ time. With a frustrated, closed-mouth scream, Sakura stomped the rock viciously, satisfied when the rock gave way and cracked in two, bringing Zetsu to a sudden halt at the deafening noise.

Snatching him up, with Kakuzu in quick succession, the kittens were whiningly replaced back in her bag and traded for the mission scroll. She was _not_ going to screw this one up. If she completed this mission correctly, it would mean money, and lots of it. The price Tsunade named was shocking, especially for something as tame as this, but then she supposed the information would be very important. That, or Tsunade felt sorry for her for some reason.

According to the map on the summary, she was mere miles from the city, now, and could probably be in her hotel room in an hour or less. It was nothing special, really, there was just going to be a series of meetings between some Earth and Wind representatives, and Tsunade had agreed to allow passage through the Fire country to get there.

And to combat the inevitable boredom of listening to speeches and the like, the city's businesses would no doubt go crazy trying to outdo each other with price cuts and sales to lure the masses closer inside to sample their wares. She'd really been needing a new pair of casual shoes, but now that she thought about it, the ones who really needed clothes were her uninvited guests back home…well, there was time to look into that later.

Even without a map, Sakura mused as she scanned the horizon, Mahazi would still have been easy to find. The town sat on a high hill, surrounded by rocky desert, and the whole thing looked like a rainbow had exploded on it. Flags, caravans, and shopping booths surrounded the place like some sort of freaky moat, and there was even what looked like a traveling _brothel,_ of all things.

"Well, here I go," she said to no one in particular. Kakuzu's responding purr was thoroughly ignored.

And so she went, through the bazaar (although she nearly got mauled several times by hopeful sellers) and past the main gates. She had to stop for a quick inspection by Suna officials—they let her get by easy, since most of them recognized her from the original Kankuro incident, although the two kittens were laughed over—who then escorted her to her prescribed hotel, which was significantly nicer than the one that cheap, stingy Tsunade had picked out.

According to the officials at the gate, once of which was Baki, of all people, a lowdown, three-star hotel was no place for Miss Sakura the Medic to stay. A high-rise, five-star hotel with glass elevators, marble and gold fountains, and an indoor soccer stadium might be sufficient for her greatness, if only she would submit to their humble hospitality. Well, the hotel was spectacular enough, but in the lobby, though Baki hurried her through the endless lines of diplomats, Sakura spied multiple shady-looking ninja.

Then again, weren't all ninja shady?

On the elevator, Sakura decided to address this.

"Baki, how many people are coming to this? The way Tsunade explained to me, it just seemed like some sort of—well, not like this."

The elevator stopped for a moment, and the sand nin quickly pressed a button. The elevator continued its surge upward, although Sakura could hear some muffled curses from behind the closed doors.

"Well," Baki replied carefully, and he paused to think a moment. "Miss Sakura, the Earth Kage has never been on good relations with Lord Kazekage. You know what Gaara is, and now most people do. He hates this, and that he would come to discuss anything is a big step. As it is, I have been sent to transfer Gaara's will, as the Kazekage seeks attention elsewhere. Here's your floor, Miss Sakura."

God. Why did everyone have to call her that?

The doors slid open nearly silently onto a short hallway and a single, mahogany door at the end. Sakura felt her stomach sink. Oh, they wouldn't…

"We saved the very best room for you, Miss Sakura. It's the penthouse suite."

"Oh," was all Sakura could say for a while. She followed Baki down the hallway closely and waited for him to card and unlock the door for her. "How long was Tsunade planning for me to come? I requested a mission, any mission. It looks like you guys have wanted—wait a minute here."

Baki opened the door and stepped inside, holding it open for Sakura.

Inside, the living room alone took her breath away, and she completely forgot about squirrelly feudal lords and B-rank missions and everything but a glass ceiling, swooping chandeliers, and a fireplace that was practically as big as her couch.

"I—um."

"We thought you'd like it," Baki smirked. "Lord Gaara specifically requested that this room be put aside for you, the savior of his brother. We haven't forgotten what you did for us."

"Apparently not," Sakura laughed, feeling giddy and light. But then she felt two hairy objects squirming ungainly in her pack, so things had to be cut short right then. She didn't want them peeing in there or something. They'd do that. Fuckers.

Fortunately, Baki took care of it, potential awkwardness and all.

"I'll be leaving now, and there's a list of numbers by the phone just for you, should you need them. Suna is at your service. You can call tomorrow morning for breakfast, or just have groceries brought up and you can make them in the kitchen, over there."

He pointed to delicate, sliding door on the far right corner of the living room, placed the keys and card on a small table, and then he was gone, leaving Sakura in the lap of luxury.

O O O

Locking Kakuzu and Zetsu in the bathroom wasn't really a nice thing to do, Sakura mused as she sipped her champagne idly, but necessary. Sure, the hotel room—hotel _house, _if she wanted to get damn near close to literal—_was_ about twice the size of her own apartment and all, but _she_ was literally on the border of two militaristically sensitive countries with swarms of diplomats every time you turned a corner.

If even one of them _happened_ to be skydiving directly parallel to the hotel and _happened _to looked in the window and _happened _to spy two extremely dangerous Akatsuki criminals, then _happened _to do some research to find out whose room that was, well…

That would suck cock. Several of them. At the same time. Ew.

After a few moments of blissful quietude, two simultaneous popping noises sounded from the bathroom, and afterwards, Zetsu and Kakuzu paraded out, wet, agitated, and wearing only small towels wrapped around their midsections.

They both made a beeline for her pack, to her surprise, and pulled out two pairs of sweatpants and two of those ridiculous water bracelet things. How in God's name--?

Sighing in defeat, Sakura stowed away the champagne. It was fun while it lasted.

Partially clothed and wearing those bracelets, Kakuzu and Zetsu threw upon her two of the most malicious glares she'd ever seen. Sakura actually stiffened, and chakra surged gently through her fingertips by habit.

"Why would you do that?" Zetsu demanded, and it was uncharacteristic, to say the least. What happened to the formality? He was usually so proper around everyone else, because that was just who he was, Zetsu the diplomat, Zetsu the designated spokesperson for the Akatsuki Kittens. "We came here to watch over you, not to be locked in a bathroom."

"Well, maybe I was punishing you," Sakura mumbled, narrowing her eyes at him and bringing her hand up so that she could rest her chin in it. She propped her elbow up on the arm of the chair. "Maybe you shouldn't have come in the _first place."_

Zetsu sat down on a loveseat, conveniently perched at the edge of the enormous bed. The loveseat itself was cream-colored, with short, soft arms and a tall, swooping back that curled into a ball somewhere off to the side. It was very elegant, if she did say so herself, and Zetsu seemed to clash in a most pleasing way with it.

If she were a kitten, she'd probably be purring herself.

"You," he began, even when Kakuzu rolled his bright green eyes and idly rubbed the stitches at his collarbone, "are our protector. We are yours. These arrangements go full-circle; as long as you take care of us, we'll keep you out of harm."

"On a related note," Sakura shot back, keeping surprisingly calm about the situation, "if _I _rip off your penis, then _you _will no longer be able to have sex."

Zetsu frowned. "I don't see how that's a related note."

"It's a related note because your penis is currently within ripping distance of my hand. Got it?"

There was a brief lapse in silence, and Sakura could swear she saw Kakuzu hide a smile. Meanwhile, a very different sort of Zetsu was grinding his teeth—_sharp _teeth—and probably trying to think of a comeback.

Was this how he acted when he wasn't showing off? This was the true Zetsu?

He looked up at the ceiling, tilting his head back. Kakuzu busied himself with trying to fix his water bracelet, which wasn't tight enough.

"Where are you planning on going?" Zetsu asked, and he turned his gaze back to her inquisitively.

Sakura just shrugged. "Out. This is a reconnaissance mission. I need to scope out my surroundings first." She stood and scooped up her pack, setting it on the bed and pulling essentials from it: a toothbrush and toothpaste, a hairbrush, a bar of unscented soap, and the unscented shampoo and conditioner travel combo. "But first I'm taking a much-needed shower."

And so she did, leaving too Akatsuki members with one final warning: "Don't leave the room. Keep the curtains closed. If you make trouble for me, I _swear _I will take away your dangly bits."

Outside, showered and away from the silent awkwardness, the fresh air was such a Godsend to Sakura that as soon as she hit the streets from the swinging hotel doors, she wanted to hug it forever and ever. As that was quite impossible, she settled for giggling madly and scurrying over to the market for some shopping.

Next to the card key, Baki had left an envelope, which totally went over her head until the moment she reached for the key. It was best to peek in it later, she summed up in a second, so in the lobby she suddenly found herself the possessor of an insane amount of money, probably just for spending needlessly.

Now Sakura looked out at rows upon rows of brightly-colored collapsible shops and permanent stores alike, and felt a surge of importance that she hadn't felt in years. She had money and it was extra and she could—she could—a glint of silver caught her eye, and she fell upon a jewelry store gleefully.

O O O

What, she had all that money and the first place she went was a _jewelry_ store? Zetsu sighed as quietly as he could from under the condom booth. _Women._

She was currently trying on a diamond necklace, so it would probably be a while. Wait, what was that smell? It was a latex-y and strawberry-like smell, so… He reached a phantom hand up through the booth table and brought it back down, pink condom in tow.

Was _everything_ in this whole damn town out to kill his brain cells? He didn't even want to get _started_ on that stupid lady at the hotel desk.

Then Sakura was moving on, and so he pocketed the condom without thinking—at least, that's what he told himself later—and sunk back into the sandy earth, keeping wary attention on Sakura's chakra and the sound of her footsteps. It was all in the vibration, really, as far as knowing who was above your head. Everyone had a different one unique to themselves. And if you asked Zetsu, Sakura's was particularly nice…

He was awfully glad there was so much moisture below-ground; there was no need to worry about unexpectedly changing back into a kitten and provoking her wrath this time. She _was_ getting better about the bitching thing, but any less and she'd just be boring. Although it was interesting to hypothesize that the further Sakura got away from her stress, the nicer she became towards them.

Of course, the whole penis-ripping thing wasn't something someone could consider _nice_ by all means, but the statement didn't seem to carry as much weight as before, as the things she said at home. If that was all true, then this must be the real Sakura, he thought. That was pleasant. Now he didn't have to worry about being the real him anymore.

Being something like the sports announcer for the Akatsuki the past few months of kittenhood, it was almost like his personality—personalities, for that matter—had been completely smothered with something big and fluffy, turning him into some robotic, diplomatic version of himself that he didn't care to keep around for much longer.

Maybe if he showed Sakura enough of his good side, maybe if he was as nice to her as he could possibly be, maybe she could—in time, of course, because there was no sense rushing this kind of thing—_maybe_ she could…learn to be nicer to the rest of the Akatsuki. Yeah, that was it. To _all_ of them.

Zetsu clenched his teeth and focused once more on her steps, turning into a women's clothing store. He cautiously burrowed under the store and circled it languidly, keeping careful track of her location and movements, and suppressing his chakra until not even she could feel it. They didn't call him an espionage expert in the Bingo Book for nothing.

He wanted to come up for air soon. It got really boring just doing nothing. But it would be put aside until she was occupied with something, because occasionally the very perceptive ones would feel him looking at him from the ceiling, the walls, the floor…nothing was foolproof, not even this.

Besides, it would be more fun to stare at—_protect_ her if she was in a natural environment. Potential dangers always showed up in situations like that.

Quick movements startled him, and he quickly morphed in her direction. Was she all right? Had she been hurt? Maybe it was okay if he just came up quietly in the wall next to her, kept the camouflage on, and—

ohsweetGodinheavenshitgetoutgetoutohGodwhywhywhy

—and then douse himself in ice water, because he was officially the happiest man alive right now.

Oh, that's such a terrible thing to think.

_We should have stayed. She didn't see us there. Maybe we could've seen more._

Oh, no, you don't. Besides, it was all _see_-through. There was nothing _left_ to see more.

_Would you believe they have the dressing rooms right next to the front door? Aren't they normally in the back? _

I've got to move. It's getting hot right here. There must be pipes near here for hot water.

_Keep telling yourself that._

Well, there officially went the mystery, Zetsu thought to himself as he continued following Sakura out the door, now laden with a shopping bag. The woman just _had_ to wear abominable lacy underwear sets, didn't she? The uncomfortable feeling in his pants offered a vulgar third opinion he didn't care to explore at the moment.

After all, the only reason he reacted that way was due to male hormones being confronted by a might-as-well-be-naked woman in a close situation. The sight produced a spike in the distribution and levels of his testosterone, and had nothing to do with Sakura herself. At all.

Because if it did, then he would be in a bad fix. He was a hard-bitten criminal, and those sorts of people did not fall in love, et cetera. They did _not—_

He peeked at her from inside a potted palm tree, and nearly had a heart attack when she tripped and dropped her bag, and then nearly burst out of the tree and ripped the man's head off who dared to help her up. He _touched_ her, and that was _not_ allowed.

—care about their mutually reciprocated protectors in a way that was not pure business and had things to do with survival and that sort. They just _didn't._

Occupied with heavy thoughts, Zetsu trailed Sakura to an herbal booth in almost a trance. This stops was shorter, gratefully, and he still had plenty of time to peek up now and then and make sure that no one ever touched her again, under pain of death, and maybe also to keep her safe, too.

She poked around in the herbs and asked for the man's ID pertly, to which question the man cursed at her and attempted to sink back into his covered wagon. Sakura wasn't one to give up, though, and followed the man with an air of authority that was almost _arous—_it was unusual in a woman, anyway.

Ten minutes later and Suna ANBU hauled the man off in handcuffs, and Baki was congratulating her on her good work in spotting out chemically altered healing herbs. Turned out the man had been giving them addictive qualities, activated when used for intentions of healing, a mini drug lord of sorts.

Well, Zetsu thought, any idiot could see that. The bitter smell of that chamomile was painfully obvious. To him, anyway. He'd worked with plants for a long time, but evidently so had Sakura. How interesting…

She stopped for an early dinner at a little booth selling beef dumplings, and he noticed cheerfully that she bought far more than he expected she could eat, and had them placed in a neat little sack for later. And next to that booth was a lemonade stand, but to his disappointment she only bought a single glass. Well, and it would've melted and got watery by the time she got back to the room.

Passing the lemonade stand in his pursuit, he reached a hand up slowly and took a size large from the edge, and reappeared with an empty glass at the far side of the table, replacing it without a hitch. The man would later be self-appointed at a psychologists' office on the grounds of heat-induced hallucinations.

The very last stop was a men's clothing store, oddly enough, and Zetsu naively hoped that Sakura had actually had the empathy to acquire some decent clothes for them. You only walked around in women's pants for so long without feeling its unspoken effects. They also kind of squished up on your—oh, there she was running off again, carrying four new bags. To the hotel!

_Finally. She was taking long enough._

Oh, stop it. She just bought us clothes.

_Yeah, you _think_ she bought them. Maybe they were for that Naruto kid._

Zetsu growled to himself. It wasn't fair that he couldn't just follow her around and glare at every man who had the audacity to look at her in any way that wasn't professional. It was as if she didn't _see_ all those horny bastards that kept staring at her chest.

Or maybe she did, which would explain the extra swing in her hips. Well, _damn_ her for provoking it. Perhaps he'd speak with her about that later…wait, of _course_ he wouldn't. It wasn't any of his business—but then again it was—and he had no claims on her whatsoever—but then again he did… All of that aside, though, it would just create trouble.

He quickly popped up near the hotel lobby, in the shadow of a magnolia tree, checked Sakura's approach on the building with a critical eye, and then disappeared into the side of the hotel in a single, fluid motion He traveled upwards as fast as his suppressed chakra would allow. If there was any evidence of his departure, he needed to get rid of it _now._

O O O

It was night by the time they had all gotten settled, and the desert nights in Suna were _painfully _cold. She'd graciously lit the fire, and soon she, Zetsu, and Kakuzu were stretched lackadaisically about the room. She was lying on the bed with her arms folded behind her head, legs likewise crossed over one another, Zetsu was lounging on the end of the bed, and Kakuzu was draped unceremoniously over the loveseat. And she reveled in the quiet for the time being, because really, how often was it that she could enjoy total silence around these guys, let alone _any _men?

Her stomach decided to go and ruin the moment by growling right then, and she pushed herself off of the bed with a weary sigh. Instead of cooking something up so late at night, she decided to just pour a glass of water to hold her over.

On her journey out of the kitchen and back to her insanely comfortable bed, she breezed past a slow-moving Zetsu, who was languidly stretching out kinks in his limbs as he walked into the kitchen, too.

When he yawned, she caught a hint of pleasant familiarity on his breath.

"You smell…strange," she commented, stopping him with a hand on his arm.

He blinked at her.

"It's a good smell," she amended quickly, turning full toward him. By this time, Kakuzu was paying avid attention to their exchange, bright green eyes peering curiously at them from his spot on the loveseat.

"Thanks," Zetsu said, smiling and showing a full set of sharp teeth that appeared oddly endearing to Sakura. He rubbed the back of his head and moved to continue on his way.

"It kind of reminds me of—_hey!" _That was when the familiarity clicked, and she slammed her glass of water down on a nearby mahogany nightstand. "It smells just like the lemonade stand I was at earlier! Were you outside?" And, even worse: "Were you _following _me?"

He scowled and rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding me? That smell could mean anything. There's lemonade here in the room." He gestured toward the fridge.

Sakura wasn't buying it. She crossed her arms at the same time that Kakuzu stood, sighing angrily, mentioning his intentions of taking a shower through the glare that he shot the both of them. Particularly aimed at Zetsu.

After Kakuzu had closed the door, locked it, and started the shower, Zetsu's scowl faded to a frown. "Maybe I just naturally smell like lemons."

"Don't try and pull that on me. I got one of those lemonades today and it smelled _exactly _like that."

He scoffed and backtracked to the bed, lying down and _taking her spot. _"You act like you know everything there is to know."

She stalked to the bed, hands on her hips. "I don't know everything, but I do know what my lemonade smelled like." She threw said hands up in exasperation, then, sitting down on the bed. "You guys just don't listen to me. Do you not understand that I'm doing this for _your_ good, too?"

"Our good?" He closed his eyes and sighed, head resting back against the mountain of fluffy pillows. "Maybe what _you're_ missing is that what we do is for _your_ own good as well."

Sakura's annoyance simmered and then died, and she turned to face him. "What the hell do you mean?" she asked softly, and though the question itself was harsh, her voice was not.

He took a second to answer, shifting so that he sat up straight. "Nothing, really."

"Don't bullshit me," Sakura scoffed, pulling her legs up onto the bed and underneath her. The sound of the shower running in the bathroom was strangely relaxing. "Yeah, I know I have a house full of testosterone that could wipe out a whole country, but how do _I_ know that its good for me? How do _I_ know that you're not all lying about the 'you die, we die' crap?" She picked idly at a piece of fuzz on Zetsu's pants. "I _don't." _The idle picking turned into her tracing wrinkles and folds. "And until I get some good, solid reasons why I _can_ believe you, then—"

And that was that. Zetsu cut her off with his mouth on hers, having to bend to reach her. One of his hands moved to brush thick strands of pink hair out of her face, the other steadying himself on the bed.

Sakura's head spun, all other thoughts and emotions completely lost in the rush. Zetsu was keeping things slow, lips parting hers, the barest hints of those dangerously sharp teeth brushing her occasionally.

He pulled back carefully, eyes still half-closed, and at that moment, Sakura realized just how strange he was, as a person, as a shinobi, as a member of the Akatsuki, as a _human. _Before she could stop herself, she was running her thumb over the markings on the dark side of his face. He leaned into her touch, and the smile that crawled slowly across his lips was heart-breaking.

"Zetsu—" she started, but he cut her off with another kiss, more daring than last time, his tongue on hers and his hands staying obediently put.

And soon, she was lost in it. Irrevocably, hopelessly lost, and it sounded so cliché, but it was just so achingly true. She didn't even notice when he pushed the both of them down against the bed, still kissing her, still making her dizzy and weightless.

The fireplace was warm on her body, especially since the cool fall wind of the desert was sweeping silently through the crack of the oversized room. Warmth was slowly but surely sweeping over her, and in some respects, the fireplace had nothing to do with it.

Zetsu's hands were sinful: They moved over her shirt, passing down along her hip and back up, barely disturbing her skirt when his thumb rubbed over the material. She could faintly hear him breathing, and she wondered if he was trying to hold in his breath. He pressed his nose into her neck and exhaled, making her shiver.

She couldn't quite find the presence of mind to push him away, though, and this was mainly because she didn't _want_ to. The soft noises of the showerhead in the bathroom were drowned out by her pulse pounding in her ears, and when Zetsu brushed his lips over a tendon in her neck, skimming down to her collarbone and just over her shoulder, she found herself clenching fingers into his rumpled shirt.

"Maybe we shouldn't..." she began, still slightly unsure, but the presence of his tongue on her skin, just _slightly,_ was fogging her senses. "And _Kakuzu,_ he's—"

"_—not important,"_ Zetsu Two finished for her, his lips forming the words on her flesh, and Sakura swallowed hard. His hand threaded into her hair and then fisted it at the back of her neck while his other busied itself with the curve of her breast, the dip of her ribs, and his _mouth_ was still on her shoulder, and his tongue and his lips, and his _teeth--_

He bit down, not enough to hurt too badly, but enough for Sakura to shout and shove him off of her.

Zetsu landed on the wood floor with an unflattering huff of surprise, and Sakura moved against the edge of the bed, cradling her slightly bleeding shoulder in her hand.

_"Fucker!"_

"Who's a fucker?" Kakuzu growled, suddenly in the doorway of the bathroom, too-tight sweatpants clinging to him like a second skin. When had he finished? How long had he been standing there? She hadn't even heard the shower stop.

She focused only on the steamy mirror behind him as she quickly healed the wound Zetsu had inflicted. She didn't miss the way that Kakuzu stared, though, but he seemed to dismiss it.

"No one," Sakura mumbled, climbing off the bed and into the kitchen, where she rinsed off her shoulder of any stray blood and desperately leafed through the recesses of her battered, shaken mind to take the boys' attention off of her.

Her shopping bag still sat on the kitchen counter, and with a sigh of relief, she grabbed it two pairs of pants and two shirts out of it, taking it into the living room.

Zetsu had since picked himself up and was sitting on the loveseat, staring at his hands. Kakuzu, likewise, was still standing in front of the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, staring at Zetsu. Nobody looked happy. Especially not Kakuzu, but she dismissed this.

"Pants!" she exclaimed, which had them both switching their gazes to her. "I bought you guys pants and a shirt. Now try them on. Now." She tossed each items of clothing to their respective new owners, and Zetsu ambled into the bathroom, shoving past Kakuzu, to try on his outfit.

Once the click of the bathroom door had sounded, Kakuzu moved to the bed, away from any windows, and pulled his sweatpants clean off.

Sakura whirled around to face a wall that was suddenly very interesting.

"What happened to your shoulder?" Kakuzu asked quietly, and she could hear him shuffling with his clothes as he spoke. "It was bleeding."

"I—I scratched it on the headboard," she mumbled, frowning. No big deal."

He was silent for a while after that. "It looked like something bit you."

"It's none of your business," Sakura snapped, glaring at him over her shoulder. He was just pulling on his shirt. And really, that was her last line of defense: a glare and a harsh remark to throw them off her trail. It seemed to work, for the moment, because he walked to the mirror to examine himself.

"It fits," he said simply, nodding his approval.

Zetsu appeared second later, and his outfit fit, as well. Sakura took both of their old sweatpants—_her _old sweatpants—and tossed them into her bag.

Throughout the rest of the night, she tried to ignore the general sour mood.

"See how much we could have avoided if you guys had just listened to me and _stayed home?" _


	8. VIII

**Take It or Leave It**

**VIII.**

**A/N:** Fallacy has way more important things to worry about than focusing all of her energy on this, so I, Aelibia, wrote this whole chapter myself, which was extremely hard to do without help from the best co-author in the world.

We love your love! And sorry if you had to go back and read the last chapter for this to make sense; I even had to. Serves us right for updating late, huh? Don't be mean to us. Remember, we have the terrifying and awesome power of the plot twist.

O O O

Sakura wasn't entirely sure how it ended up like this, but all she cared about was how badly she wanted it. But there she was, and there he was, clothes long gone on the floor, hands everywhere, and it felt _so_ good.

Never mind that she was in a hotel in the middle of nowhere, that her mission would award her a fortune, and that she didn't know exactly _who_ was fucking her. All she wanted to do was _feel._

His hair brushed under her chin and she could feel his hot breath all over her. His weight smothered her a bit, but no one ever said sex was perfect. All that mattered was that he touched her as if she meant something to him, and his voice, melting over her frame like liquid velvet, was just—

"Could you move your leg, yeah? Your thighs are crushing me and it feels weird."

She screamed, and woke up in that accursed hotel in the middle of _fucking nowhere,_ pressed in between two criminally inclined head cases, burrowed in satin sheets. Weighing the two options in her half-conscious mind, she really couldn't decide at the moment which she'd rather have in her personal hell: sex with Deidara, or potential rapage from the two weirdest-looking people on the planet.

And of course, they just popped up from sleep right away like they were trained to, whipping their heads around when they discovered the origin of the shriek, and then stared intently at it, and _put their hands on its shoulders._

"What are you screaming about?"

"It's two o' clock in the fucking morning."

Sakura sat upright, stiff as a board, sure her hair was a frizzy mess, and not in the greatest of moods, having dreamsexed one of her worst enemies. She looked left and met with glow-in-the-dark yellow eyes, peering at her in a concerned fashion, looked right and met with a wobbling table lamp, because Kakuzu was already trying to go back to sleep.

_Jeez, what an insensitive jerk,_ Sakura thought moodily. She turned back to Zetsu, who was obviously the more sensitive of the two by now, and—dammit.

"Hey, why'd you go back to sleep, you insensitive jerk?"

Sakura poked at his back half-heartedly, feeling quite drowsy herself. Zetsu snored softly. Sighing, Sakura snuggled up between them again, and tried for the second time since the night before to attempt to be as comfortable as possible that a girl could get sleeping in the middle of two homicidal men.

O O O

The next morning was just as eventful, and probably quite hilarious to someone who wasn't involved in any way.

As usual, it all started out innocently enough. She woke up between them again—and weren't they closer than they had been the night before?—and crawled tediously backwards until she dropped off the footboard, trying and _knowing_ she was failing at not waking them up.

By the time she'd taken a quick shower and put on her civilian clothes to observe the political throwdown for the day (a white, lacy sundress with local shoes she'd picked up yesterday, a straw hat that Kakashi had given her when he forgot about her birthday once, and a toxic amount of sunscreen), both Kakuzu and Zetsu were seated on opposite sides of the couch in the clothes she bought them, just looking at her and crossing her arms. For a minute, Sakura wondered about the Akatsuki left behind in Konoha. What were they doing? Were they trying on her clothes? Eating all of her food and leaving dirty dishes out? It was so frustrating letting her imagination go wild about something like this and knowing there was nothing she could do to either alleviate or confirm those suspicions.

"Well," she announced to the two shinobi. "I guess we'll have some breakfast, then. I'll go shopping today for lunch and dinner, but for breakfast, I'll just warm up…" –she darted in the kitchen and removed a white bag from the fridge— "…some of these beef dumplings." She dumped them on a plate and threw them in the microwave. Thirty…forty seconds?

"Beef dumplings?" Zetsu's voice materialized from behind her. "For _breakfast?"_

"I think it's fine. _I'm_ not going to complain," mumbled Kakuzu from the kitchen table. For a minute, Sakura thought she saw Zetsu _glare_ at him… That was it. They needed to get the hell out of this hotel. She already knew she couldn't stop them from following her, so why the hell not?

"Okay, I just made a decision," Sakura sighed, transferring the dumplings from the microwave to the table. "You two are getting way too cagey sitting in here all day with one another. I don't know _why_ you two don't get along all of a sudden, and I'm not really concerned either, but I am soon to have two kitten-shaped spaces in my purse that will be occupied by, you may imagine, two kittens."

Their heads snapped in her direction at that declaration, already full of spicy beef and dough.

"Your chakra isn't noticeable or even recognizable as kittens, so I won't have to worry about getting caught with you. As I hope you realize, it is _extremely_ fucking important that you don't get wet while I'm walking around. That would create huge problems for everyone. So when you're done eating, it's time to take those water thingies off. They make your skin raw, anyway." Sakura paused, inserting three pieces of bread (where did _that_ come from?) into the toaster.

"I'm going to do research," she continued. "I wonder if there's a library or bookstore here where I can find, at least, a more healthy way of holding the transformation. I sure don't have a problem with a bunch of kittens running around, but as I understand it, you hate it."

"Damn straight," Kakuzu muttered, helping himself to some orange juice from the fridge.

"Sometimes it's easy to forget what it's like as a human when we're kittens. _It's like we're slipping away from ourselves slowly when we retain that form,"_ Zetsu brooded, glaring resentfully at his half-eaten dumpling.

"Well," Sakura called over her shoulder as she reached for some jam in the back of the fridge, "that's something else I'm going to look at. How to break this thing, if we can. And then…well, I don't know what will happen then. Tsunade can maybe—ugh." She broke off on a perturbed note and stacked the toast on another plate, setting it next to the dumplings and joining the men at the table.

What _was_ she going to do if they got back to normal? Would she be executed? Would everyone hate her? Sakura spread some of the bright red jam on the blackest piece of bread and chewed thoughtfully.

"So," Zetsu drawled innocently. "What _were_ you screaming about last night? Nightmare?" He smiled slyly.

Kakuzu snorted. "Only children have nightmares." All the same, he peered at Sakura with an open resignation to pry.

"For your information," Sakura said stiffly. "It is _perfectly_ normal for anyone to have nightmares. But no, I wasn't. Well, yes I was. Well, no. I mean—"

"Well…?"

"God, you must be desperately bored if you're actually interested in my personal life."

"Oh, just indulge us, why don't you. We're _enthralled."_ Kakuzu stabbed the tabletop with a fingernail.

"Okay, so…it wasn't a nightmare at first, but it sure morphed into one at the end," Sakura began cautiously.

"Are you sure?" Zetsu squinted at her, and Sakura started to feel a tad claustrophobic. "You were moaning and wiggling around for a while until you woke up."

"Oh, was I?" She laughed nervously, blushing in spite of herself. Damn, now she really did have to say something. "I was…making lo—having se—_copulating_ with someone." Scientific-sounding terms had a tendency to put a boring, dull damper on any situation. She hoped it rang true for this one. And now to sit back and watch.

It really got their attention, though she really didn't expect anything less. Suddenly the room seemed slightly tenser, and something inside of Sakura shrieked with glee at the thought of what that might imply.

"Oh," was all Zetsu had to say.

"And who was it?" Kakuzu growled with a surprising amount of interest.

Sakura giggled.

"You're going to love this. It was _Deidara."_

Zetsu blinked.

"Hn." Kakuzu went back to his dumplings and jam-covered toast, tension all but evaporated. "Well, that must have been exciting. Because he possesses _such_ stamina and skill, even enough to get both his arms ripped off in one day. And guess who had to put the fuckers back on?"

Sakura leaned forward. "What? You're mumbling. I can't hear you," she teased with a grin on her face.

"I said I hate strawberry jam." With a surprisingly evasive air about him, Kakuzu tore off the water ringlet, dabbed his wrist dry, and submitted to kitten transformation with that familiar _pop. _Following a few self-conscious licks, he sank fluidly to the kitchen floor and wandered over to where Sakura's purse sat, waiting for the sign to leave.

A glance from Sakura, and Zetsu followed suit. Nothing left to accomplish in the room, Sakura scooped up the two balls of fuzz into her bag, zipped it nearly closed, and unlocked the hotel door, unaware of a pair of _other_ eyes watching her innocent exodus.

O O O

This bag was nice to nap in, Zetsu thought sleepily. And a nice haven from the hellish heat of the desert. Even the way it moved, parallel to Sakura's purposeful steps, was nice, a swish-sway motion that made him want to curl up and sleep…

Which was completely impossible with someone chewing on your ear. A paw to the face deterred Kakuzu from further nibbling him, and Kakuzu hissed and swiped back. Zetsu lowered his ears apologetically, secretly promising to bite the bastard in the ass the second he lowered his guard.

It was just as well, though, because the two of them were here to protect Sakura from getting hurt or killed, and he _wanted_ to protect her, even at the cost of revealing themselves. Really, the only reason they couldn't was because of Sakura's reputation being at stake. He thought that her being forced to flee the village under threat of treason and setting up base with all of them was simply _wonderful…_but she would never be happy there.

Kakuzu's aforementioned ass was suddenly placed in a very vulnerable position, and Zetsu extracted his revenge. A small-scale tussle ensued among a small bag of fresh tampons, notebooks, pens, and a bottle of water, until a hand reached in to lightly slap them both.

"Stop it, you two."

And so Zetsu obeyed the hand, because he _so_ wanted her to be happy, with all of his kittenly might. It was important…even though he couldn't remember exactly why. So he sat and waited, waited, waited to be needed.

O O O

The first place she went was the library, since it was too early for the first meeting to begin. She went straight for the front desk and requested as many books on kittens, cats, transformation jutsu, and peripheral seals as could be found be held for her, and recommendations on bookstores that might have extra subject matter be written down, please. This way, she could go back later and not have to do all the finding herself.

Sakura left the library, quite pleased with her genius, and wandered into the main government building to await the first of a series of boring this and that. A flash of her ID, and Baki was immediately there to escort her into the meeting room, into a front row seat, to boot. God, it was good being Sakura Haruno.

Although she felt a little—okay, _really_—grateful about all this Sakura-worship, she couldn't help but wonder if her antics had been a little…_exaggerated_ in her absence. Really, all she'd done was save a guy's life the same way she'd been doing for years, even at that time, and then defeated a crazed lunatic with the help of an old woman. _Anyone_ could possess a portfolio like that with a little work.

As people began to file into the room and select chairs all around her, Sakura took a moment to take in her surroundings. The room itself was bland, commonplace, but the people seemed partial to the upper crust of life, with women wearing elaborate kimono and men wearing delicate business wear. Suddenly Sakura wished she'd worn something a little more formal.

Just when she considered running back to the hotel to don a more appropriate costume, a blonde woman wearing an outfit rather similar to hers heaved herself into the seat next to Sakura, jerking a long, thin, metal object first into her lap, then propped up against the seat next to her, and finally underneath her chair.

"Damn," Temari swore irritably. "I can't _believe_ I was conned into coming here."

"Temari!" Sakura smiled benevolently at the other woman, but carefully kept up her guard. "You're looking well. I like that dress on you."

"Well, I hate it. This has been the worst week of my life. This is nothing but a huge scam."

_Maybe this is a chance to get some information!_ "Oh? Tsunade seemed really insistent about my coming here. Do you know something I could get back to her?"

"Yeah," Temari sighed. "It's not like it's political or anything. And I'd especially like it if you relayed _all_ the details to the Hokage. The more humiliation this guy gets, the better."

Sakura got out a notebook and a pen, yanking the cap off with her teeth and spitting the plastic cylinder into her lap.

"Okay, to be blunt, our feudal lord was discovered screwing around with a ten-year-old girl, and this event has been shoddily disguised as a 'political series of meetings' to cover up what is actually his stab at trying to make himself look like a savior to this girl, and then he's probably going to marry her. Thing is, he almost tried that with me when I was younger. Are you going to write that down? Write it down."

"Um." Sakura hesitantly scribbled on the vertically lined paper. "You usually aren't this open about…well, anything. Is everything going to be all right?"

Temari scowled. "This guy's been on my ass for years, _almost_ literally, and now that he's finally given up, he's turning to prepubescent girls for his sick pleasures. I'm trying to do everything I can to make Gaara enforce the child molestation laws as strictly as possible, but the council refuses to make any decisions at this point because of the man's stature. So that opened the door wide for Mr. Statutory Rape, and his little carnival of animals. This is all for _him,_ and it's disgusting."

"Oh. Now I feel bad for all that shopping I did yesterday. I'm assuming a lot of it is going to him. And now I think I know why Baki has been giving me the royal treatment. It must be his job as a branch of the council to butter Konoha up through me in hopes that we don't raise a big moral stink about it. And I know Tsunade will."

"Right. Well, when you give the report try to word it in the most convincing way possible to make the guy look as bad as possible, you know what I mean. I'm not letting this guy off the hook." Temari's eyes flashed to the center of the room and then narrowed. "And don't worry about the shopping. All he's getting is the impressed tourists. All the money is going to the personal vendors, thankfully."

"That makes me feel a lot better," Sakura ended her last sentence with a wobbly character, and glared at her cheap pen. "So…a savior? Like, the whole 'I am taking in this poor orphan and you're just making assumptions' bit?"

"Absolutely. It's bullshit. Either the girl has stuffed herself full of tempura nonstop since she's been living in his house, or we have a case of a child bearing a child."

"That's too bad for her. I wonder how she feels about this. Hey, wait a minute… Baki said something about the Earth Kage, though. So why does your feudal lord have anything to do with—?"

"They're both disgusting old men who've been what you can call friends for a while, and the Earth Kage is trying to enforce some of his immorality upon us, along with some real political talks. But that's business to take care of in Suna."

Sakura wrinkled her nose. Those men sounded like bad news. A busty brunette cut off the conversation between her and Temari when she leaned in between the two and stared pointedly at Sakura.

"You're Sakura, from the Leaf? I'm from Waterfall. We were here on the political rumors, too, but I guess that's all pointless now." The woman gave her a toothy grin. "I guess we might as well stay for the food anyway, huh?"

"Right," Temari remarked stiffly, pulling Sakura out of her chair by the wrist and dragging her away from the surprised Waterfall kunoichi. "You do that. My _cousin_ and I are leaving now. Good day."

Back outside in the oppressing heat, Sakura cautiously drew her hand back and eyed Temari, bewildered.

"What was that?"

Temari stomped away down the dusty road, hiking her flimsy green dress up to her thighs, fan pinned between her elbow and breasts.

"I hate that bitch. She's been following me around since I got here. Although," Temari paused, and then slowed down for Sakura to catch up. "She cut it out after Baki told me you were in your hotel room."

"Oh…"

"If she treats you like she did me, she'll just follow you around and ask dumbass questions. I'd just steer clear of anyone who isn't Suna, if I were you. All these shinobi around here are just fishing for gossip to relay."

"Well, okay, I mean, I wasn't planning on it anyway. Come to think of it, I've seen hardly any shinobi at all, and the ones I did see were just sitting around in bars and shopping."

"Same here. And I'm betting that's all they will do. Once most of them found out the real reason for all this, they stayed for another day and left. So they're just glorified tourists, really. Want a bite to eat? All this stress is making me starved."

"Well…" Sakura glanced in her bag through the zipper, a little disoriented by the whirlwind of information Temari had just released on her. And the quick way in which Temari was telling her, one thing after another with barely a moment to stop and breathe, wasn't helping matters. Kakuzu and Zetsu peered up at her demurely, wonderful anchors to her rather sedentary life with the kittens back home. She was almost thankful. But she suspected they were hungry, and some lunch might not be bad for them either. "All right," she consented.

The lunch was at a modest pastry shop that had been part of the city for years, and Sakura and Temari stuffed themselves with meat pies and bitter tea until they were ready to explode. Sakura snuck bites of the filling to the bag-ridden kittens, which they hungrily accepted.

Conversation from then on out went more like Sakura expected of a shinobi from another village, the whole 'so how are missions doing' 'fine, fine' sort of thing that went absolutely nowhere. As much relative fun as Sakura was having, she planned to milk Baki's offer for all it was worth. As far as she was aware, he wouldn't go back on his little suck-up routine, and a spa seemed like a nice place to go, for one thing.

Of course it would be the most expensive one she could find. You never knew when these free passes would come along in life, after all. In fact, she could even use Baki's money and order seven lobsters right here and now. With steak. Mmm. And then she wouldn't have to worry about dinner back at Konoha! No, wait…the boys would eat it. And…there was no way to transport it there at a safe temperature. Damn.

"Well, Temari," Sakura sighed, "thank you so much for inviting me to lunch. I'll get the check."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly—"

"It's Baki's money."

"—yes, let's do that."

"Check!"

Sakura called the server over and paid the bill without a fuss, thanked Temari again, and watched the blonde stomp away down the rows of kiosks, dress hiked up again like she didn't care who watched. It was almost a thing of envy, how she didn't care about the world's vision of her. Then again, Sakura thought as Temari dropped her fan and swore viciously at it, maybe it was better to keep up appearances. She was nowhere near as confident as Temari, in any case.

Inside the bag, Kakuzu and Zetsu snarled at each other and wormed around with claws unsheathed, and Sakura shook it.

"Hey, we're going to a ridiculously expensive spa, okay? I need you two to cooperate and not get wet at all costs, all right? Don't make me fuck you up. I will."

Zetsu yawned. Kakuzu licked his leg.

O O O

The twine rope snapped taught as Zetsu strained his tiny kitten body against it, hissing with frustration when it didn't give. Didn't Sakura say something about a spa or hot spring or something? So why did that justify him being tied up? He chewed on the string morosely, considerably cheered up at the way it frayed with every stab of his kitten teeth, sharp as little needles.

Kakuzu dozed, curled up in a ball in the clothes basket where Sakura left him. Obviously he wasn't too concerned about being left out. Actually, he wasn't too concerned about anything, provided Zetsu didn't rub too much on Sakura. That made Kakuzu mad. Mad kittens were no fun. Therefore, rubbing was bad.

And leashes were worse! Really, he didn't mean to step into that water on the ground, but it was just lying there, and he fell right into it! And Sakura sure didn't look happy when he transformed. Furious would describe it better. Something about staying hidden, and you idiot don't get me in trouble, and then she practically attacked him with a hair dryer to get him back to a kitten faster.

And before she left, she made sure to wipe up any puddles on the ground, so there was no chance of him joining her. She was just so much better human-to-human… There was just something about her that was so wonderful. Her smell? No, not really. Especially not now that she smelled so…bloody, for some reason. Something to do with the tampons? Her hair was nice, though. It was _so_ soft.

Her skin, it felt like the bottom of his paw pads, warm and smooth, and somewhere in the back of his fluffy brain, he could remember kissing her. Had he done it on purpose? Probably so. Zetsu paused in his thinking to raise a back paw and scratch behind his ears. But her blood, on her neck or maybe on her shoulder…he'd tasted a tiny bit of it. _She_ wasn't too happy about it, but that was all right. It was tangy, and sweet, and it had been _so_ long since he'd tasted some so good—

The paper doors slid open silently, and a mousy woman stepped inside in jounin uniform. A shinobi! Maybe if he bribed the woman, he could get her to untie him…wait, no. He didn't have money, and besides that, she probably couldn't understand him. Fuck.

The woman glanced around the room, curly brown hair bouncing lightly with her motions. Her eyes roved over his form for a moment and he growled.

"A summon?"

She moved closer. But that was fine. _Anything_ to keep her away from Sakura.

"Hey!"

Sakura's voice echoed from a ways inside the complex to the changing room, and the woman flinched.

"Are you two behaving yourselves in there? You'd _better_ not be fighting, or so help me, I'll march in there and tear you a new one."

A few minutes crept by.

"Clear," the woman whispered. In that moment, three other jounin dropped from tiles in the ceiling, glancing around the room, especially on him.

"Did you check it?"

"It's fine. It's just a normal cat."

"But you felt the chakra here."

"Here?"

"No, no," the woman hissed. "It was the one who was _with_ him. The Grass guy, remember? _He_ isn't here, or at least I didn't feel him." After an uncomfortable, awkward moment of silence, she added, "That girl has everything to do with it. Every time I've felt either of them, she's been there, too."

"So what do you want to do?"

Zetsu stiffened on his haunches, tail lashing like a whip.

"If we find them, kill them. But not now. There's too many people."

"Later, then. After she's left the city?"

"Yeah."

"So what about _her?"_

"When we find her then, I'll take her down myself."

Zetsu pounced.

The twine snapped with the fury and strength of his leash, and he latched his teeth onto the first of the jounin, landing right on the neck. Startled, the man hesitated for a beat before twisting an arm back, giving Zetsu a chance to sink his teeth in, going for the nerve but falling short, a setback of his unfortunate possession of puny teeth and a small jaw.

In the commotion, he dropped to the ground and wriggled into the loose pants and shirt of another jounin, thoroughly enjoying the man's strangled sounds as Zetsu clawed his way up and up. Pausing only to place a wicked bite on a very sensitive area, he wasted no time in ripping and tearing his way out of the shirt, leaping straight for that damn female, who brought the mini massacre to a halt by gripping him tightly by the scruff.

Despite his twisting and writhing, nothing could be done anymore but watch one jounin laugh at the other two hissing with pain on the ground, and a very pissy captain snapping at all three.

"Get up, you idiots! Do you want to fuck this whole thing up? Now let's kill the cat and leave."

But it was in vain, and Sakura rescued him for the second time since he was dropped on her doorstep.

"I'm coming in to check on you two now, so if you made a mess then you'd better clean it up."

Her voice came closer and closer with each word, and he could hear wet footsteps coupled with the rustle of a towel being wrapped around a body. A rush of vertigo announced his reunion with the tiled floor, and with a spray of fine mist the shinobi were gone.

The opposite doors slid open, and Sakura gasped.

O O O

There were shreds of clothing and blood _every_where. And in the middle of it, one bright-eyed kitten. The minute she came in, he cantered to her side and began violently rubbing against her calves, purring so loud she could _feel_ it.

"Okay, mister."

She yanked him up by the scruff and tossed him in the basket with Kakuzu—sleeping, thank goodness—who immediately woke and began systematically biting every part of Zetsu he could reach. Sakura took advantage of the fight and dressed quickly, leaving the towel on the ground with the bulk of the horrific carnage.

"Oh, man," she groaned, pinning her hair up in a messy bun. "I hope this was nothing serious. You," she picked up Zetsu and addressed him sternly, "are going to explain _everything_ to me when we get back to the room."

But when they did get back to the room, Zetsu's explanations gave her no satisfaction whatsoever. _I mean, come on,_ Sakura thought moodily as she watched Zetsu's hands wave around sharply as he rambled off some bullshit. _Waterfall jounin trying to ambush me in the bathhouse? What, were they trying to get pictures of me naked and earn a little extra GDP back home by selling them to porno magazines?_

Later, of course, she would berate herself for not being careful enough.

Sakura sighed at the end of the dramatic speech, more concerned with the fact that she was hungry and it was almost sunset than whatever mad slick moves a kitten decided to dish out on unsuspecting ninja.

"Okay." She stood up and rubbed her hands together. "I'm going to make dinner now. While you were ranting, I called down for some chicken and vegetables and stuff. I'm going to make us some dinner, and then we're leaving."

Kakuzu's eyes darted in her direction. "You're done already? I thought your assignment was for a week."

"What, you don't want to go home?"

"If you must know, no. It's a living hell in that tiny apartment. You have no idea what they're all really like. They're all just putting up a show for you. You know that, right?"

"Well, I, um, kind of," Sakura stuttered nervously and walked to the door, standing on her tiptoes to peer out through the peephole. "I try not to think that I'm stuck in 'that tiny apartment' with seven grown men in general, no matter who they are. I assume it's just a matter of time before one of you rape me. Or maybe all of you. …At the same time. Ugh."

"Oh, yes, it's on our minds _every_ minute of the day. The second you let your guard down, consider your cherry popped."

Sakura glared, and Kakuzu sniggered at her. Zetsu brooded in the armchair, lost in his personal La La Land.

Flushed at his lack of response, Sakura unintelligently retaliated.

"Well, what do you know about my… You don't even _know_ I'm a virgin."

"Well, you act like one." He yawned and stretched back out on the couch, looking insufferably proud of himself.

Sakura blushed. It was just a modest habit, really.

"Well, you—!"

_Knock, knock._

All three of them were immediately on guard, and Sakura edged towards the door quickly but warily. After what Zetsu told her, she didn't want to be caught unawares. The wind roared away outside, and she slowly stood on her toes to peek out.

"_No."_

She started at the sound of Zetsu's voice, from right behind her, just like in the kitchen last time.

"I'll look. _It could be them."_

He moved to the door like a shadow, and Sakura stood to the side stiff as a board. Back on the couch, she thought she could hear the rustling of slick black threads. The creaking of the door handle made her jump again, and she held her breath while Zetsu leaned out into the short hallway containing the elevator door.

An eternity passed, and then he leaned back in, clutching a basket covered in cloth. He pulled the cloth up…and there sat a headless chicken, some spices and oil, and a pile of vegetables. Sakura sighed and closed her eyes, and the dark tension in the room suddenly disappeared.

She snatched the basket from bi-colored hands, stomped into the kitchen with it, and picked out the chicken from the mix. Rotating a chair on its leg so it faced out and away from the table, she sat down and pulled the trashcan between her legs, then began yanking the feathers from the stoic bird.

"Don't _do_ that to me." The significant whine in her tone irked her, but really. The situation rather called for it. "That was completely unnecessary. Now I'm not going to get any sleep at all. Well, if I was _planning_ on sleeping."

The two accused wandered to the table and sat down at it, watching her clean the bird with half-interested expressions.

"You're not sleeping?"

"Your liver could be speared on a stick right now and all you care about is your sleep patterns."

"No," she answered Zetsu, opting to ignore Kakuzu's tendency for the pessimistic. "Because we're leaving as _soon_ as we get finished eating. No naps for me, but _you_ guys don't have to worry about it because you can just sleep inside the bag."

"Whatever." Kakuzu propped his face up with his palm and waited. Zetsu, after a moment of thought, did the same.

Sakura finished cleaning the chicken, a messy job that made her thankful for pre-cleaned varieties, and cut it into strips with a kitchen knife from the drawer. She mixed up a marinade from the spices, oils, and sauces in the basket, and dumped the chicken into a bowl with it. The vegetables she employed the lazy shinobi behind her to cut up into pieces while she mixed up a tempura batter, prepared the tempura flour and sesame seeds, and heated oil in a Dutch oven.

Soon the delicious and cardiac arrest-reminiscent smells of deep fried food filled the suite, and Sakura was glad to finally throw the fruits of her labor onto plates, pour sake into cups, and choke it down as if it was her first meal in a month. Of course, if she were actually eating after a month-long fast, intended or otherwise, Sakura's good medic sense would restrict her to very small meals while she got used to the feeling of food in her stomach again. Thank God that wasn't the case here.

With little coaxing and threatening, Sakura managed to get the two men to clear the dishes and wash them while she finished packing her toiletries, clothes, and random items she felt privy to from the hotel décor. A hop, skip, and a jump later, she had the kittens in her bag, her usual Konoha outfit on, left a note on the door for Baki, and then sped away across the rocky desert, leaving boring speeches and traveling brothels alike far behind her line of sight.


	9. IX

Take It or Leave It

**Take It or Leave It**

**IX.**

**A/N: **Fallacy is back! Let's celebrate! We're back on track with the Fallacy-Aelibia action, baby.

O O O

Sakura's mouth set in a grim line, her every muscle tensed and ready for anything the woman might throw at her, verbally or physically. She pondered her words carefully, apprehensive beyond belief and already wondering if she should skip going back to Konoha entirely and run off to be a wandering shinobi. Did everyone already know? Did Tsunade send these ninja?

_Sakura ran through the forest at a fast pace, feeling the rhythmical bumps of kittens against her thigh--separated by a thin layer of cotton--hoping to get to the border by dawn. After hours of sand, stretching into one long expanse of brown nothingness on all sides of her, she allowed the monotony to settle into her consciousness and relished in the momentary nonexistence, the feeling that nothing was behind her and nothing was ahead. Too few of those moments passed her way these days._

_Her distraction almost became her doom; from out of nowhere a shruikan spun in a graceful arc and missed her head by half an inch, Sakura's life only spared by her own clumsiness, having tripped on an unexpected rock jutting from the dwindling dunes. She found herself quickly surrounded by masked shinobi; one of them felt familiar..._

_"Hey...you're that girl from the speech convention. The waterfall kunoichi, aren't you?" Sakura hesitated, nervous. She reached for her bag only to find it missing; it had been thrown into the ferns of the oasis nearby, leaving only the strap trailing from the foliage. So no weapons, then. Well, that was just fucking fantastic. And the kunoichi didn't even answer._

_They began to whisper among themselves._

_"I can't feel him anymore. Captiain?"_

_"I know he was there. I'd know that bastard anywhere. Fucking honorless traitor. He won't get away again."_

_Sakura froze, praying her startled expression didn't show on her face. Kakuzu. It had to be Kakuzu. They _knew.

The pink-haired kunoichi blinked, forcing herself back to the present. The brown-haired woman stared at her.

"What do you mean, he's here? Who?"

"Don't act like you don't know, bitch. I've felt him with you the whole time. He's been staying in your hotel room with you and some other guy. Don't fuck with me." The woman sounded nearly hysterical. "I swear to God I'll find him, and after I'm through with him _you're_ dead."

"Sir...shouldn't we bring her in for an interrogation...?" A masked ANBU broke form and whispered sideways to his commanding officer.

"Shut up. I know what I'm doing." She addressed Sakura again. "Hey, so where is he?"

"I--" _What should I say? What can I even do? Do I attack them now, or wait...? Shit, I knew I should've made them stay kittens. Was I idiot enough to think that a whole town full of shinobi wouldn't notice those two?_

The brown-haired woman was yelling obscenities at her repeatedly, in a near frenzy. Then something in her demeanor snapped, and she sprang onto the balls of her feet madly, charging straight for Sakura with a sword drawn.

Sakura was about to stop her; honest, she was, with her muscles tense and her feet ready to carry her to safety, but certain multicolored blurs had other ideas. She was whisked away on a breath, her head ducked inside what may or may not have been black material that smelled suspiciously like cheap hotel soap. When her mind caught up with what was going on with her body, she realized that her face was pressed into the chest of Zetsu, who was holding her several feet away from the attackers.

She wriggled from his objecting grasp just in time to see the female shinobi sling her sword in front of her, side to side. She looked manic, more like she was trying to taunt Kakuzu out of the forest than actually prepare for an attack. The battle stance she had once adopted had since dropped, and now she stood leisurely, flicking shoulder-length brown hair out of her face.

"Don't you remember dear old Amaya?" she asked, innocence mixing with malice in a sickeningly sweet way. "Why don't you come say _hello?" _The sword still swung, more like a pendulum now, point facing toward the ground, blade clipping the grass whenever she switched hands.

Zetsu was breathing down her neck, quite heavily, and though it was a significant distraction, Sakura still focused very intently on Amaya. Or, more importantly, the empty, dark area of forest in _front _of Amaya. All the while, she kept the locations of the other shinobi in her sights, occasionally glancing to them to make sure they weren't going to try anything. There were, though, for the most part, completely still. It was obvious that Amaya had briefed them prior to the attack. They were to let their female leader handle business until otherwise instructed. This woman must have had some serious grudge against Kakuzu for her to go to such lengths to find and confront him.

A rustle in the forest and a brief spike of chakra—_Kakuzu's _chakra—made every damn shinobi in the immediate vicinity bristle. Sakura could even feel Zetsu stiffen behind her, fingers terse where he held onto her. Kakuzu's chakra was like nothing else; that was for certain. He had been around for a long time, so it was foreign, developed, and frightening_. _It was oppressive and ubiquitous at the same time, so much so that it was difficult to pinpoint where the point of origin was. The pressure that it exerted was almost stifling.

Amaya stopped swinging her sword and instead held it at shoulder-level, taking one hesitant step back. She regarded the forest before her cautiously, her feet shifting quietly in the grass as she paced left and right.

The chakra receded slowly, draining out of the area with an agonizing sluggishness. Kakuzu was invisible once again, and Amaya yelled out.

"Don't tease me!" she shouted, nearing hysterics. She hacked at a bush nearby, cutting it clean in half, and jammed her elbow into an adjacent tree, caving in the trunk. When she dislodged her arm it had begun to bleed, and splinters clung to her sleeve. Her breathing was labored, and sweat rolled down her face. The situation became ten times tenser.

"You're playing games," she relented, stepping away from the forest and toward her male counterparts. "You're _fucking _with me. Just like old times, isn't it, friend? This brings back _so _many _memories!" _She made a hand motion to the three shinobi before all four of them charged toward the forest, weapons drawn.

"Kaku—!" Sakura didn't even get a chance to finish his name. Zetsu had a pale hand clapped over her mouth, holding her around the waist and trying to drag her away from the ensuing fight. She had never seen Kakuzu fight, though—really, _really _fight. There was a part of her that was worried for him, and there was another part that was morbidly curious of his abilities.

Two of the shinobi ran up two separate tall trees and disappeared into the canopy, and the other dodged one of Kakuzu's threads with a clone. The thread whipped a smiling rock out of the way and then returned to the interior of the forest.

Amaya, at the last moment, executed some sort of back handspring to evade more of the threads. She feinted to the right, directly toward Sakura and Zetsu, sword still drawn.

Sakura disappeared in a cloud of smoke and Zetsu sunk into the floor. Amaya's sword cut through said smoke before she stabbed it directly into the ground. "This is _your _doing!" she shouted, loud and clear, obviously directing the statement toward a still-unseen Kakuzu. She pulled her sword out just in time to sever more threads and efficiently deter another barrage heading toward her other side. "You wanted to play games, you disloyal fuck!" She turned to face Sakura, who stood some fifty feet away. "Are you ready to come out now?"

She didn't give him time to answer, because she was already headed straight toward Sakura. Sakura was quick if she was anything, though, and she easily avoided the woman's attacks. Zetsu had begun to hold back the two shinobi that had hidden in the canopy. The last shinobi was nowhere in sight, presumably already dead.

The sword barely skirted Sakura's wrist as she ducked out of the way of a particularly forceful thrust, and the pain was instant. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been cut by a sword. Probably not since Sasori, in all honesty. The wound wasn't deep, though, and she ignored the blood for the time being.

At that moment she noticed that Zetsu had taken to his flytrap appendages, and was currently in the process of severing one of the shinobi's overzealous arms at the elbow. The wound began to fester and boil, and his flesh began to drop off of the bone, all the way up to his shoulder, and obvious effect of the poison Zetsu harbored in his attacks. A once underground vine tore into the unfortunate man's back and then emerged from his neck, and he was thrown limply off to the side.

Amaya lunged at her again, and Sakura's view of the boys was cut short. The last thing she had seen was Kakuzu coming out from the forest to meet Zetsu.

When Sakura regained another clear view, Kakuzu was laying waste to the other, lone shinobi that had been attacking Zetsu. No threads were sent out, and he used his bare hands on the man, grabbing him by the head and landing a few well-deserved hits. Zetsu took over and Kakuzu was near Sakura in an instant, breathing just as heavily as every other person engaged in the battle.

"Oh, to see your face again," Amaya purred, and a grin spread across her face like fire. Sakura took this time to wipe the sweat off of her forehead with the back of her hand, but she'd forgotten about the injury there in the heat of the moment, drowning in adrenaline, and blood smeared across her skin. The salt from her sweat stung the open cut, and she pulled it away with an inward curse.

Kakuzu sent her one sidelong glance before he dropped to the ground and kicked Amaya's legs out from underneath her. Amaya caught herself, as was to be expected, but it had given Kakuzu ample time to wrestle her completely to the ground. Sakura didn't understand why he wasn't utilizing his threads and ending the battle before it got even uglier, but she didn't question him. She trusted that he knew what he was doing.

Zetsu finished off the last shinobi by grabbing him by the shirt collar, slamming him hard enough into the ground to make a sizable depression, and then stomping him in the back of the skull. His flytrap appendages had been retracted again in a move that Sakura had apparently missed.

Sakura felt, for the most part, rather helpless. With two S-ranked criminals on her side in a battle against better-than-normal-but-not-good-enough shinobi, she didn't have much to do. She healed her wrist quickly and sloppily and then rushed to where Zetsu was holding his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she panted, ripping the neck of his shirt to reveal the wound. It looked like he'd been cut by a kunai, but it was fairly superficial. She healed it as competently as possible.

"I'm fine," he growled, but his voice sounded very, very different. "Stay out of the way. If the other shinobi shows up, make sure you let one of us know."

"You mean Kakuzu didn't finish him off?"

He didn't answer her, but he charged toward where Kakuzu and Amaya were still rolling in the dirt. Kakuzu had the upperhand, and he was straddling the wildly thrashing woman, holding her arms pinned above her head at the wrists and squeezing her face into an excruciating pouting face. Bruises had already formed on her cheeks where he had grabbed her before and slipped.

Zetsu lost his balance once in the dirt on his way to the grappling couple, landing hard on his side, but he rolled over and continued without missing a beat. As soon as he arrived, Kakuzu released Amaya, giving her time to stand up and face her two attackers.

Zetsu gave Kakuzu a chary, vague look, and Kakuzu backed away obediently. The role reversal made Sakura's head swim. She squinted at the three of them, even as Amaya took up her sword again and drove it toward Kakuzu. Kakuzu dodged, of course, but it struck deep into his left bicep.

It didn't look like he'd anticipated that, because he yelled out and staggered backwards while Zetsu grabbed Amaya by her hand and swung her face-first into the ground. Why were they both resorting to close combat? It wasn't adding up.

Kakuzu lurched away from where Zetsu and Amaya battled for control of the sword. He fell over his own feet, and it took him a second to regain his composure and withdraw to a safe distance. Sakura ran to help him, orders be damned. If the other shinobi showed up, assuming he hadn't already fled, she could handle him just fine.

Kakuzu was still holding his arm when she got there, and he was bleeding heavily.

"You guys really go all out," Sakura commented, dropping to her knees and shooing his hands away from the wound. She covered it with her own, glowing mint green. Kakuzu's head fell back against the ground, and he took a deep breath.

He looked up at Sakura through his bangs. His eyes were so strange. She really did like them—honestly. She didn't have time to dwell on them, though, and concentrated instead on stitching the tissue and skin back together in his arm. Stop the bleeding, start the breathing. That was what Tsunade had always told her.

Speaking of which, it didn't look like Kakuzu was breathing very well at all.

"Breathe, Kakuzu," Sakura chided. He hadn't stopped looking at her, though he took another deep breath and then exhaled, before breathing normally.

"Hurts a lot more than I remember," he said. His voice was softer than usual. "It's been a long time since anyone's gotten a good hit in."

"How humble of you." Now almost finished healing him, she glanced up to watch Zetsu throw Amaya like a small shot-put. It was almost amusing, but the actual severity of the situation prevented Sakura from fully reveling in the humor.

"Can Zetsu handle that woman?" Sakura asked, glancing down at Kakuzu, who still hadn't looked away from her. "He looks like he's just toying with her now."

Kakuzu scoffed, even when Sakura pulled her hands away from his healed bicep. He flexed that arm experimentally and then sat up. "Zetsu can handle himself. He's more than capable."

"We should help him, though. Especially since that woman was after _you _in the first place."

"Are you _worried _about him?" Kakuzu asked, giving Sakura a very sly, un-Kakuzu-like gaze.

"Of course I'm worried about him." She frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Kakuzu smiled, very barely, and then the stitches around his lips stretched taut and he showed two rows of unfairly white teeth. Sakura had never even registered that Kakuzu _had _teeth until now. He never smiled.

"Are you feeling okay? You're acting strange. And I really think we should help out Zetsu. Amaya's trying really hard to get to you and me. I'm not sure how long Zetsu can—"

A dark hand, tattooed rings on his upper wrists like permanent bracelets, touched her own hand, and then Kakuzu kissed her cheek. Very softly.

Sakura felt faint. _"…What?"_

And then threads shot out from various places on Zetsu's body to wrap tightly around Amaya's sword. It became clear to Sakura what was going on just as Zetsu's became engulfed in pale smoke and revealed himself as none other than Kakuzu.

A pop and a minute expulsion of smoke later, and the Kakuzu that had once been sitting beside Sakura was now Zetsu, scrambling to get up and running toward Kakuzu.

"It was a distraction," Sakura said, but not out of surprise or awe. Oh, no. She was _pissed. _Why would they not _tell _her this? She could have seriously fucked things over without this knowledge. They were lucky that some horrific accident hadn't befallen them at the cause of her ignorance.

Amaya looked thoroughly confused, now, with Kakuzu's threads snapping the sword in several different places and depositing it at her feet.

She broke into a fit of screaming and crying, intermittently sprinkled with obscenities. "You're still a worthless traitor, Kakuzu! You'll never redeem yourself!" Even as she spoke, Kakuzu's threads wrapped around Amaya's body, binding her arms and legs, keeping her restrained. It didn't look like she was fighting it anymore, though.

"You're worthless scum! Faithless! Nobody will have any place for you!" The threads were steadily covering her entire body, tightly, but not so tight as to restrict her speech. The bottom half of her body was completely black. "Face it, Kakuzu, you have no fidelity, no duty, no _honor. _You are loyal to nothing and no one!" She was breathing harder than before, now, her chest heaving, even as threads wrapped over her eyes, blinding her, and closed around her neck and jaw. "You are loyal to no one," she repeated, heaving, "no one, no one. Not even to the person who held you in such reverence…" The last words were spoken as a whine. Her mouth was covered.

Kakuzu's expression was frighteningly blank. Zetsu and Sakura could do no more than watch.

The threads tightened with a flick of Kakuzu's wrists, and the wince on his face was barely visible. Amaya's scream lasted less than half of a second, and the crunch of bones snapping made even Sakura turn away. It was gruesome. There wasn't a need for him to use such extreme force.

When the threads dropped away, Sakura didn't look at what fell from them, and Zetsu and Kakuzu turned away as well.

"There's still a shinobi out," Kakuzu said after a while, still panting, holding his side. He must have bruised a rib.

Zetsu was on the defensive immediately, and he began to melt into the floor.

"_Don't,"_ Kakuzu barked, glaring over at Zetsu, who emerged so that he stood on two solid feet once more. "Let him go. He'll return to Waterfall and tell them what happened." He swallowed thickly and straightened himself, pushing his bangs away from his face. Sweat was pouring off of him, running paths along sutures. "They've been after me for a long time. Maybe this will finally send the right message."

"What about Sakura?" Zetsu asked, glancing at her as if for effect. _"They'll come after _her_ now."_

"Just like they've come after you?" Kakuzu snapped, sneering. "Use your fucking head."

Zetsu stepped in front of Kakuzu, halting him in his tracks. Sakura stayed behind them, watching the tussle unfold. She wasn't sure if she should step in, in any case. Tensions were high, all of them were tired and injured, and she didn't know if her presence would worsen the situation.

"_You didn't see them fighting me back there?"_ Zetsu demanded, throwing his hands up in frustration. "You didn't see them fighting _Sakura?" _

"Do you think they know who she is?" Kakuzu shouted, stepping dangerously close to Zetsu. He was much taller than him, and their chests almost touched. Zetsu stood his ground, though, obstinately, his jaw set, fists clenched. "They don't have a fucking clue. They won't come after her, just like they wouldn't come after you."

"They—"

"They only wanted me! Not you, not Sakura, not the fucking Akatsuki, just me!" He sneered hatefully at Zetsu, and Zetsu leaned back on the balls of his feet. Sakura opened and closed her mouth a couple times, at a loss for words. "How many fucking years have you known this? We've been over this _how _many times? How many fucking times did Pein have to brief us all on the danger of our abandoned villages searching us out for you to finally fucking understand?"

"_None of this ever involved _Sakura,_ though!_ It never involved an innocent woman!" Zetsu argued, unfazed by Kakuzu's expression. The amount of obligation Zetsu felt toward Sakura, or maybe just the female race in general, made Sakura view him in a very, very different light. He had gone from the possibly _too _diplomatic man that didn't seem to feel passionate about anything to who stood before her now, staring down a man that had lived for ninety-one years, in order to defend a girl he barely knew.

Maybe she was getting in over her head with this one. She could feel Zetsu's chakra rippling gently, like he was trying very hard to hold it back, but Kakuzu's was absolutely surging. Kakuzu _himself _was still surging with adrenaline, testosterone, and other angry, masculine things.

"Stop it!" she shouted, shoving them apart, stepping between them finally, and holding them lightly by their shirts. Zetsu's was ripped at his side, presumably from Amaya's now-shattered blade, and Kakuzu's was ripped in the collar, where Sakura had accessed his earlier shoulder wound. "Stop it _now! _Why are you _fighting _with each other?"

Zetsu didn't answer, and Kakuzu kept a steady glare on Sakura. His lip was bleeding, she noticed, and Zetsu's eye had swelled considerably. Blood was beginning to seep into the sclera. She hadn't realized these much more minor injuries until just now.

"You're both being ridiculous," she said, releasing them, and grabbing Zetsu's arm. He seemed the most approachable at the moment. "Look at you two. You're supposed to be _friends,_ or whatever. And _I'm _supposed to be healing all of your little injuries now. Because I'm a medic and you're my cats."

Kakuzu ignored the cat part. "We were never even partners," he bit, sounding snippier than usual. Sakura hoped it didn't have anything at _all _to do with jealousy. "I barely knew him when we were in the organization."

Sakura grumbled inaudibly, setting to work on Zetsu's very bruised eye. It returned to its normal size within a few seconds and the bruising disappeared. The blood stayed, though. "It should return to normal in a little while. The blood will drain on its own."

She turned to Kakuzu, who was still breathing heavily. The bruised ribs were a major factor in this. "Can I heal you?"

He huffed and began to tug at the hem of his shirt, but Sakura helped him out of it. She healed them quickly and then moved to his lips, healing the cuts there. This reminded her, unfortunately, of the kiss Kakuzu—_Zetsu_—had given her, and with a hint of embarrassment, she brushed her thumb over his bottom lip after she healed it. Kakuzu reacted by looking down at her with those green eyes, so green, set in a deep black.

She pulled away before any of this nonsense could continue, and Kakuzu put his shirt back on. Thankfully. That sort of thing could get distracting.

Finished with her work, she stepped back, hands on her hips, and surveyed the damage. They looked battle-worn, but at least they didn't have any more injuries in need of immediate attention. "Are you two finished? Can we move on now?" And then a thought struck her, and she shook her head quickly. "Wait a minute, how are you still _human? _Why aren't you kittens?"

Kakuzu wiped the sweat off of his forehead. "Sweat. If we sweat continuously while we're already in our human form, we can hold it for a while. At least until we _stop _sweating."

Sakura grimaced. "Wow, that's…that's kind of gross. We need to get you more of those water-watch thingies."

"I agree," Zetsu said, using his sleeve to dry some sweat on his neck. They were both _soaked. _The fronts, backs, and sides of their shirts around the collar were absolutely drenched. At least they didn't smell _too _bad. Yet.

"Okay. We should get going, then. You're both sweating uncontrollably, and I'm tired. Also, I'm sweating as well. And I'm sure we all stink." They began to walk on their original route, though the tension between Zetsu and Kakuzu was still rather high. Sakura made sure to walk between them. It was like babysitting two rowdy teenagers.

Of course, that couldn't be the end of it. Oh, no. She felt it at the same time as they did, and Kakuzu was the one to grab her this time, pulling her behind him as Zetsu whirled around, looking very fierce indeed.

"_What was that about them not coming after her?"_ he growled, and Kakuzu just tightened his grip on Sakura's wrist. She didn't want to admit that it hurt a little bit.

The shinobi appeared before them in a blur, holding a large satchel. He looked out of breath, but otherwise very normal.

"Who are you?" Zetsu asked. The man wasn't recognizable from the battle, but he wore a armband with the Suna symbol painted on it.

"It took me ages to catch up with you. You certainly cover your tracks well!"

"_Who are you?"_ Zetsu asked again, darker this time, with more of a glowering tone. Thank you, Zetsu Two. Chakra flared, and the man fumbled his satchel.

"Right. Uh. I have some books for one Haruno Sakura."

Sakura popped out from behind Kakuzu. "My books! Yes!" She grabbed them from the man, signed a slip saying that she had received her package, and then proceeded to thoroughly obsess over said books.

"I just realized I'm starving," she said, when she had put the books back in the satchel and slung it over her shoulder. "We should get some food before we head home."

To this, there were really no complaints. Especially since Sakura knew of the best damn café midway to Konoha.

O O O

Waiting for her chicken salad sandwich with a small tea on the side, Sakura pored over a physiology book with all the fervor of a dying man fulfilling his last wish, thankful for restaurants with huge tabletops and large, fake plants.

As soon as the three of them had walked in the entrance—Zetsu and Kakuzu confidently trailing behind her; she knew no one here would recognize him—Sakura made for the nearest window booth and sat in the side facing the door.

She dumped the several pounds worth of books on the laminated tabletop before her, and for several moments caressed the bindings lovingly and sighed before noticing her two companions still stood before her, this time wearing wry looks. They clearly said, _you like books _too_ much. Just a bit. _Sakura pursed her lips, considering being pissed off at the very idea of them thinking _her_ strange.

"Sit down…guys." Sakura blushed for reasons she herself didn't know, collected the books with the expanse of her arms, and, research in tow, scooted until she sat flush with the window, all the benefits of ancient dust and dead flies applying.

An uncomfortably tense moment flitted through the air, but before Sakura had time to care to register it, Kakuzu placed both hands on top of the table, palms flat on the translucent surface, and slipped next to Sakura in one fluid motion. Zetsu, in a barely detectable twitch of indignance, took a seat directly perpendicular from the space in between Sakura and Kakuzu. Thanks to the wonderfully hot, arid weather of Suna, the two of them were still sweating quite a bit and were thus still very human.

For the love of biology, why were they _doing_ this to her?

Sakura's eyebrows furrowed as she silently reaffirmed her earlier connection between certain people and rowdy teenagers, provoking a possibly-identifiable-as-concerned glance from each man, and a consequent vapid stare directed at each other. She tightened her hands around the cover and focused on the skeletal image of a cat before her. Okay, so most cats' back legs were positioned higher than the front legs, which gave them—

"Excuse me, your order, miss?"

Right. Food.

"Oh, yeah." Sakura, somewhere deep in the confines of her mind, sank to her knees in grateful sobs directed at this civilian woman, whoever she was, for breaking the five millionth tense stare-off. The woman handed her the plate and disappeared back in the kitchen wordlessly, leaving Sakura to gaze lovingly at the most amazing chicken salad in the whole world.

Of course, her currently sleeping shame rekindled anew at the sound of a very manly stomach growl. _Two_ of them. She blushed again, wanting to stab herself in the thigh. In her rush to eat, she'd totally forgotten to order for either of the men sitting with her.

"Um…" Sakura could feel her face darkening to an impossible shade of pink, and felt her stomach twist around. _Stupid, stupid, stupid bitch. Gah!_

"I can—"

"I'll go and order mine now," Zetsu interrupted her. He sighed and walked back up to the register, leaning his weight on the left half of his body, staring at the service bell and probably wondering if ringing it would actually get someone's attention or not.

Sakura stiffened at the snap of Kakuzu's chakra beside her and glanced at the man worriedly. But he didn't look at her, simply drew her attention without notice and sent a level green gaze toward Zetsu at the counter. Raising a hand from the table, she passed it near the sutured man, hesitated with indecision, and then settled it on the swell of his left arm. The connection floundered and fell flat.

So easily that she envied him, Kakuzu shifted his attention from the bi-colored man to her, and paused, glancing first at her hand, and then into her eyes. They stayed like that for a while, Sakura becoming increasingly nervous and flustered, Kakuzu stoic and unchanging.

There was something there, in his eyes, that Sakura couldn't quite see, though she wanted to. Did she not understand these men at all, simply giving their habits and emotions names when there were none? Kakuzu's raised hand drew no notice from her, her distraction giving her tunnel vision for everything but his expression. She barely felt his fingertips brush against the corner of her mouth, just as she had done to him earlier, and then she finally understood.

He'd seen everything.

Sakura flinched away, severing the contact embarrassedly, returning to her book just as Zetsu reappeared with a bowl of something, its identity she would never remember in the years to come. For some reason, it just wasn't all there, the memory of that place. Even scouring every minute detail, the one thing she remembered the most were incandescent eyes.

"They said they were out of soda. _Out of soda my ass,"_ Zetsu muttered irritably.

And then the world fell into place again.

Mustering up the decency to speak again, Sakura found she had to clear her throat several times to address the man beside her, eliciting a concerned glance from Zetsu, one that didn't last very long in his attempt to inhale as much food as humanly possible.

"Kakuzu…" He glanced at her, out the window, and at a dead fly currently lying on one of her books. _Look at me again, dammit!_ "Aren't you going to eat anything? I'm paying for it, so it's free…"

So she was aiming for his weak spot for money, no big deal…

"Not hungry."

Her heart sank, blaming herself for his sudden indifference and yet knowing it wasn't her fault at all. Damn conflicting emotions. Zetsu never even paused. Sakura's hand itched to close around the both of theirs, as if the action alone might hold everything together just the way it was: dysfunctional, but at the very least predictable. None of this, this uncomfortable mess that she suddenly found herself plunged into, a game where she had no experience or fortitude whatsoever.

In the end, she mused as she tipped the waitress graciously, gathered her books into the messenger's parcel, and herded the two sources of her grief out the door, it didn't amount to much in the grand scheme of things. Countries rose and fell, people fell in and out of love, two strangers engaged in silent massacre over a common interest. She, them, this, was all insignificant. Years of medical teaching taught her that. She knew the consequences of death, of loving those doomed to die, of cherishing a moment that might never happen again. None of this should have mattered.

But why couldn't she ever forget that look?


	10. X

**Take It or Leave It**

**X.**

**A/N:** Moar! Oh, and don't forget our poll at the top of Fallacy's page! Your opinion matters! Vote! For Rohan! For Gondor! Rise, men of the West!

O O O

Deidara burrowed his head into his arms and sighed wearily for the fifty-seventh time since he woke up. About fifteen minutes ago he'd snuck into the hall closet, snatching a night light from Sakura's room, and now sat in the tiny space, knees folded up to his chest, relishing his time alone in the dim light. Once again, he felt the tug of depression bearing down on his brain, and he lived struggling to keep the melancholy at bay. He hadn't felt this bad since _that_ day, all those years ago.

In his personal defense, he had tried to keep his head up through this whole thing; honestly, he had, but sometimes it was just so damn _hard_ to be calm about all of it. His hand strayed to his hip, reaching for a pouch of clay that wasn't there.

And of course, if he had to admit it—he wouldn't—all he really wanted to do was run screaming out the front door, dig up some clay out of the ground, and fly as far away from this place as he could. Land in a place where no one knew his name or face and live it up as a terrorist for hire just like the old days until he died in some artistically fiery explosion.

Because _honestly,_ this place was hell on earth. Being crammed daily in a house with four other men, each possessing their own god-awful-annoying personality quirk—suck-up, sadistic, fucking-annoying, could-be-Satan—kind of wore on a guy after a while, even as a kitten. _Especially_ as a kitten. For some reason, though, Deidara never could seem to remember the things he did as a cat. It was weird…a blank spot in his conscious filled with wisps of memories (a fur-flying tussle here, a jacked box of cat treats there). And, consequently, he was pretty sure he couldn't remember being human as a cat.

Deidara scratched his head, thinking it was time for another dreadful hair-washing day. Normally it wouldn't be that bad, of course, that clean hair feeling was wonderful, but…not when your hair ended up smelling like brown sugar and fig conditioner. It just…wasn't manly at all. He hummed, wondering if Sakura would cater to a request for some hair care products that _didn't_ make a guy smell like a fruity man-whore.

"This sucks so bad," Deidara mumbled darkly against his knees. The door opened abruptly. For a second Deidara blinked unintelligently into the invading light currently emanating from a high-powered flashlight pointed directly into his eye sockets.

"You're telling _me._ Seriously, what do you do when you come in here, jerk off? I found this thing under her bed."

Oh, fuck. _Hidan._ The silver-haired man flicked the flashlight on and off rapidly with a flick of his thumb.

"I'm gonna do fucking Morse code at the neighbors. I'm gonna say—"

"Get the hell out of my face, yeah. And you can't do that, you know we'll get caught if you do."

"So what if I _wanna_ get caught? This place is boring as hell anyway."

Deidara glared hatefully at the source of the blinding light, reached up from the floor, and slammed the door, preparing for an all-out battle for dominance of the hall closet, and then released the knob, surprised, when he heard Hidan's steps fading away down the hallway. He closed his eyes, trying to adjust back to the darkness, a hand over his sensitive left eye, attempting to revert into alone-with-my-painful-musings mode, this time with a throbbing headache.

The door opened again.

"Goddammit, asshole, I'm going to—Tobi. What."

"Deidara, can Tobi—_I_ sleep in that closet with you? Hidan keeps stabbing me, and my lungs hurt."

"Get the hell out of my face, yeah."

"You sure say that a lot lately. I read about this in one of those books Miss Sakura has. It says that when your body starts changing, you get lots of hormones and it makes you grumpy and you start wanting to be alone all the time. Also you masturbate and eat more food. Deidara, is _your_ body changing?"

Deidara slowly reached up and closed the door again, kicking the side of the closet with a foot and relishing in the resounding echo. A flicker of light flashed against his skin from out in the hallway, and Deidara sighed. Hidan, back with the flashlight again. Joy. Well, it was about time to come out anyway. Twenty minutes was enough for I-am-feeling-so-sorry-for-myself time.

He turned the doorknob slowly and scooted backwards into the hall using his hands and feet, contemplating on a new hiding place: the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, or the living room? The living room had more things to do, but if you were in the bathroom it at least guaranteed privacy until Hidan decided to barge in demanding to know what the hell took so long fuck I have to pee move over God it smells like a slut house in here.

Wandering into the living room (it was worth the company to avoid the bitching), Deidara's spirits sank upon the sight of his least favorite person in the whole world, sitting on _his_ couch spot. Itachi glanced away from the television set for a split second before returning his attention to a congressional program for some far-off country. Apparently, they solved economy disputes a little _differently_ there; the speaker of the house currently had a representative in a headlock, and was giving an uppercut to a stenographer. It looked pretty interesting, actually.

The side of the couch farthest from Itachi sank underneath Deidara's weight wonderfully. He lazily pondered the formation of a new favorite spot.

"She should be back today."

Deidara was so surprised at the sound of the Uchiha's voice that at first, all he did was stare.

"Huh?"

Itachi blinked slowly, and then repeated his sentence as if to a small child.

"Sakura. She should be back today, along with the other two."

"Chh. I know _that._ I _still_ think it should've been me that went, yeah."

"Your motives for going are self-centered. You wouldn't accomplish the task at hand."

"Which is? Right, right, keeping the whore safe. God, why can't we just kill her and get it over with? Yeah, yeah, I know. The whole pain of death thing. Whatever, yeah."

"You know that your anger will accomplish nothing. Be patient. You're always jumping into things you can't get out of. Remember how you got here in the first place. You remember, don't you?"

"Asshole, I'm going to blow you the fuck up one of these days, yeah."

Itachi smirked subtly. "We'll see."

The two men turned back to the program, which was hard to see now that the camera operator had leapt into the fray, swinging punches left and right. Hidan approached the couch from behind.

"Now _that's_ a job I'd fucking enjoy. Where is that, anyway?"

Without waiting for an answer, Hidan returned to Sakura's bedroom, replacing the panties he'd held in his hands previously. Deidara forced himself to avoid a trail of thought that would lead to puzzling over what exactly the man had been doing with them.

A rumble of fluid built up in his lungs, and he coughed from deep in his chest, head still pounding from the light before. Gah, that damned cough was back again. It had started a day and a half after the who—_Sakura_—left, and now it was back again at full force. Out of the corner of his eye, Deidara noticed Itachi's cheeks were a little feverishly red, and now he remembered Tobi's comment, that his lungs were hurting. Great, now there was something going around. Could this day possibly get any worse? His face burned, strangely soothing compared to the aching shiver in his bones. Strange how those seasonal illnesses could sneak up on you without warning. Huh. They should…ask permission…or something…mmph….

The last thing Deidara remembered before passing out was Itachi's questioning stare.

O O O

The trek home, short as it may have been, was one of the single most awkward, embarrassing times of her life. Kakuzu had refused to even acknowledge her throughout the trip, let along spare her a glance or a rare word, and Zetsu had been able to tell from the jump that _something _had transpired between her and Kakuzu. And whether Zetsu was put off because Sakura didn't agree to let them stop and get more food or whether he was miffed at said emotional moment between his kitten compatriot and Sakura was something she dearly did not want to think about. Nevermind that they had turned back into kittens less than a half hour into the journey; it was still really fucking weird. Almost _especially _so when they were prancing about as kittens, seemingly unaware of the strange exchanges they'd had with one another. Zetsu had taken quite a shine to rubbing against her leg whenever she stopped, and Kakuzu periodically chased and pawed at her left foot, purring all the while.

She had never been happier to see the gates of Konohagakure. She shoved the two of them into her bag, managed to slip them through undetected, and then headed in a beeline toward home. She couldn't stay, though; she had to check in at the hospital, retrieve the week's schedule, and then pick up some more groceries with what little money she had left. She was running shockingly low on tuna.

"Alright," she mumbled, trotting up her doorstep and sticking her key in the lock, opening the door masterfully with just two fingers and her elbow. "In with the both of you. If the others ask, tell them I went to check in at the hospital and buy more tuna."

Kakuzu and Zetsu tumbled out of her bag, looked up at her with sad, watery kitty eyes, and sat down.

"What? No. Get in." She pointed inside for emphasis. She could already hear the voices of the others. If they caught her at the door, she'd never get her errands done. _"Now!"_

Zetsu trudged inside dolefully, his tail between his legs, and Kakuzu scooted backwards in increments, never taking his eyes from Sakura. When he finally disappeared inside, Sakura finally shut the door and sprinted away.

She heard what sounded like a soft electric jolt, loud cursing—she didn't have to guess from whom—and then she was gone, down the street, toward the hospital. She'd left her bag and her parcel of books on her doorstep, so it wasn't quite so hard to move anymore. Her arms were slightly sore from carrying the extra weight.

Scurrying down the street in an ungainly fashion, Sakura sped toward the Hokage tower quickly, hoping to get there and to the store as fast as she could. Surprisingly, no one snagged her arm and begged her to look at this or that headache or lesion, and within minutes she stood panting in front of her second teacher.

"Sakura!" Tsunade exclaimed. "Back so soon? I'm sure there's a story to tell, what with the rumors I heard."

"Yes," Sakura gasped. "There's a—that guy, he—whew, sorry—it's—Temari told me—"

"Yes, yes, just do the mission report. Here's your check. I'm busy."

The blonde woman thrust a large packet and several slips of paper into Sakura's outstretched arms. There was one thing, though...

"Lady Tsunade, is there something wrong I need to know about? You're not usually like this."

"And who are you to be so closely observing my behavior? Mind your own damn business."

"Sorry. I noticed on my way over that lots of lights were on in the hospital. Is something going around?"

"Intuitive as usual. Actually, there is." Tsunade looked more stressed than Sakura had seen her in months. Her hair was a mess, and she was shoving her way through stacks of papers, her brow permanently furrowed. "A small bacterial epidemic infiltrated the village, probably through the graces of northerners," she bit sarcastically, cursing at a piece of paper before crumpling it. "Everyone has decided to contract pneumonia at the same damn time."

"Pneumonia?" She wasn't _too _worried, especially since the illness was easily treatable with antibiotics. "Weren't we giving away free vaccinations last winter?"

"Yeah, well," Tsunade said in a sickening mock of a laugh, "you know people. They think they're damn invincible."

Sakura began to backpedal very quietly and very subtly, watching Tsunade warily. She doubted any of the boys at home had been vaccinated, and some of them may even have been sick already. They could be seriously sick, since she'd been gone so long, and none of them could leave the house… But hadn't she read in the bingo book that Kakuzu was some type of pseudo-medic or something?

But…Kakuzu had been with her.

And Zetsu was pretty much a modern medicine man, wasn't he?

…Oh fuck.

Sakura suddenly rearranged her priority list, that being "Steal pneumonia vaccinations and amoxicillin from hospital, then haul ass home" being at the very top. Second only to this were "Pick up more tuna" and "Buy a lemony face mask for later." If her heart beat any faster, Tsunade just might be able to hear it.

"Thanks, Tsunade. Do you need me to help out?" _Please say no, please say no, please say no—_

"No."

_Yes!_

"Go home. Now."

That sounded familiar. Sakura was all too happy to oblige. Before she left the hospital she stopped into the stock room, made to look busy while one of the resident nurses massaged her sore feet and left, and then shoved as many bottles of antibiotics as she could into her pockets without making it look noticeable. She also took the vaccinations, as well as a few empty, capped syringes. She'd never been more nervous in her life, waltzing out of the hospital, her pockets full with contraband amoxicillin, amoxicillin-clavulanate (just in case this particular strain of pneumonia had become resistant to penicillin, God forbid), a couple bottles of pneumococcal vaccination, and, of course, the syringes.

She was stiff as soon as she left the hospital grounds, and once on the street again, she darted home. She seemed to be doing a lot of running lately, and her legs had not left this fact unnoticed. They burned and protested, but she promptly told them to shut the fuck up and continued to run, as she chanting "This is so illegal, this is so illegal, I'm going to get caught, this is _so _illegal!" along the way.

She almost tripped over the parcel of books on her doorstep, but shoved open her door after jerking the key in the lock. She emptied her pockets onto the table in the foyer, walked purposefully into the living room, and then _did _trip over something else. Landing hard on her left side was painful, but her rage was forgotten when she rolled over to see Deidara lying on the floor, supine, near the couch. He had obviously fallen off of it, and by the looks of it, he wasn't doing too great.

"Great. Just great. Great, great, great." She gathered herself up, tried to lift Deidara back onto the couch without the use of chakra, half-failed, and then shouted for one of the boys to help. Why expend her chakra when she didn't need to? She had to preserve as much as she could. "Hidan! Tobi! Kakuzu! Zetsu! Itachi! Kisame! _Help!"_

Several crashes and several hurried footsteps later, and Zetsu, Tobi, and Kisame were in the living room, asking her without very many words other than "What?" and "Are you okay?" what Sakura needed so badly. And Kisame was…still a kitten, for some reason.

"Why didn't anybody pick him up?" she demanded, once more attempting to lift all of Deidara's dead weight onto the couch. Only half of his torso and one arm were on the couch at this point. "Did nobody see him?"

Zetsu was helping her in an instant, Kisame and Tobi watching while the two of them hefted the limp Deidara up. His breathing was shallow and his face was flushed.

"He's hot," Sakura said, frowning, and thankful when nobody made a snide remark about her comment. "Zetsu, grab my alcohol wipes from the bathroom cupboard. Tobi, gather everyone in the living room."

At this she tore the shirt off of Deidara. Well, more of struggled to lift it over his head, got it tangled in his hair, and then threw it aside in frustration. He was sweating, which she had expected, and every so often a chill would wrack his body, which she had _also _expected. How could they have let Deidara's condition get this serious? Didn't _anybody _around here besides Kakuzu and Zetsu have any medical experience?

Zetsu returned promptly with the alcohol wipes. "He was like that when Kakuzu and I got here," he said. "We didn't move him because we just figured he was asleep. But Tobi has been complaining of pain in his lungs, so he might be infected as well."

"How are Hidan and Itachi?" Sakura asked. "And why was Kisame a kitten?"

"Hidan and Itachi don't seem to be infected. _Kisame is a still a kitten because he's an idiot."_

Sakura gave Zetsu—or maybe it was Zetsu Two, whoever—The Look.

"Kisame is still a kitten because he never bothered to change back into a human," Zetsu corrected.

Tobi wandered into the living room, Hidan, Kakuzu, and Itachi on his tail. The three latter of them were looking increasingly agitated with her. Then again, Kakuzu always looked like that. Especially since the incident in Suna.

"What the fuck is wrong with _him?" _Hidan asked, nodding toward Deidara. "He looks like shit."

"He has pneumonia," Sakura said with a roll of her eyes. She left Deidara's side to bring the bottles of amoxicillin to Zetsu, who was still standing near the couch. "Zetsu, give one of these to Deidara three times a day. Give him one now and make sure to give it to him tonight. I assume you know how to force feed."

Zetsu gave her a toothy grin that was probably more Zetsu Two than anything.

She grabbed a syringe, unwrapped it from its package, uncapped it, grabbed a vaccine bottle, and unscrewed that. She drew the liquid into the syringe, biting her lip, and then replaced the bottle on the foyer table. When she was finished she held the syringe up in one hand, and put her free hand on one hip, cocking it. "Okay, who's first?"

"What is that?" Hidan asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"It's a vaccine," Itachi answered, to Sakura's surprise. He hadn't seemed to talk very much at all, and especially not in her vicinity. "And a good idea." He approached her, rolled his sleeve to his shoulder, and then gave her his bare arm.

Sakura grabbed an alcohol wipe and cleaned the spot where she would stick him, and then bit her lip. "Hold still," she mumbled, more out of habit than anything, and slid the needle effortlessly under skin, into the muscle. Itachi didn't even flinch. Once finished, she beckoned for Hidan. And then Zetsu. And then she vaccinated herself. And once Kakuzu appeared, she vaccinated him as well.

Feeling a medic once more, she breathed in deep until nothing existed but the task at hand. There was nothing more to do but begin.

"Hidan." He blinked lazily, poking incessantly at the needle prick in his skin. "Go into my room and get me all the blankets from my closet. I assume you know where they are since you like messing around with my shit so much. Tobi, start boiling water, and while you wait get into the hall closet and start ripping cleaning rags apart into foot-by-foot squares. Someone get under the sink and bring me my rubber gloves. I'll get the rest."

To her surprise, no one resisted at all. Even Hidan's complaining formed a plateau at tolerable medium. She glanced at Kakuzu, who hadn't moved.

"And I need to talk to you later about something, if you don't mind."

Her answer was met with careful, guarded eyes and his lips pressed firmly together. He watched her for a moment, as she wordlessly tended to a shallowly panting Deidara. She broke eye contact to wipe some sweat from her patient's brow with her sleeve, and when she happened to look back up, Kakuzu was gone. And to be honest, she was glad. It was awkward just being in the same room as him, especially when he about his business as per the usual, pretending nothing had happened.

So that's just what she had to do, too. Nothing had happened, she reassured herself. Nothing at all. The more she thought about it, the more it became true. Kakuzu had never even _hinted _that he was attracted to her, ever. _Zetsu _had been the one to kiss her—twice! Not Kakuzu, because Kakuzu wouldn't do something like that, because Kakuzu was self-reliant and self-serving and just all around selfish.

Deidara's eyes drifted open presently, and he tossed to the right with a wailing sort of moan. He buried his face in the couch cushions, and Sakura gently coaxed him to turn to face her. He was as much dead weight as when he'd been unconscious; the only difference now was that he'd begun to mutter, cough, and occasionally try and thrash free of her grasp.

Hidan returned with the blankets, dropping them on the floor beside her.

"Can you hold him down for me?" Sakura asked, and she was surprised at how little Hidan bitched about it. He held Deidara firmly restrained at the chest, though, careful—at Sakura's instruction, of course—not to press too hard. While he did this, Sakura undressed Deidara down to his shorts. Not that Deidara was very happy about it. He complained and moaned and tossed around some more, damning Hidan with a slurred tongue and calling Sakura everything under the sun. He'd called her a nasty old hag at one point and she'd angrily plucked one of his leg hairs, earning an indignant gasp. Hidan aided her in removing his shirt, grimacing at how much he hated this, how he was only doing this because he expected some gift in return, how she was forever in his debt, etcetera.

Tobi had long since appeared on the scene, handing her torn rag after torn rag, which she used to wipe the perspiration from Deidara's body with. The act would have been erotic if she hadn't practiced this very same procedure hundreds of times before. She'd pretty much seen it all, being a medic-nin and all, and this was definitely _not _the worst of it. It just seemed a little more serious because, well, this was someone she knew. Maybe she cared for him. She didn't know quite yet, and she didn't want to think about it.

Deidara kicked her in the chin.

She hated him. He could die, for all she cared.

"Tobi, hold down his legs. He's not going to hold still. Zetsu, did you find the rubber gloves?"

"You never told me to look for them," he answered simply.

Sakura sighed. "Can you get them for me?"

He tossed them to her from the kitchen, and she caught them both in one hand, having been balled up and all, before slipping them on effortlessly. When she pressed her cold, gloved hands to Deidara's chest, it was like she'd just shouted "Clear!" at the top of her lungs and defibrillated him. He arched and clenched his teeth, trying his best to twitch away from her. His feverish condition had made his skin, every nerve ending, hypersensitive to touch, especially extremes like hot and cold. It had been uncomfortable, sure, but she was positive he was just overreacting.

"Calm down," she ordered, pushing him back down to the couch. "You need to stop moving around so I can _help you!" _He seemed to listen to her for a second, because he settled back, still breathing hard, half-naked and looking rather helpless. She almost felt bad for him. Hidan looked anywhere but at Deidara. Tobi, meanwhile, was frowning and looking frantically from Deidara to Sakura.

"Is he going to be alright?" Tobi asked, all of that boyish simplicity having since faded. He sounded like a normal man now, no lilt to his voice, no laughter or real innocence behind his words.

"He'll be fine," Sakura assured, and he would be, as long as she could remove the bacterial masses from his infected lungs as soon as possible. Which was right now.

It was just like it had been with Kankuro and the countless other poison removals she'd performed in the years that had passed. And it was painful; this she knew. But Deidara would have to deal with it. Normally, she guessed, he wouldn't be reacting so strongly. The man had a strong sense of pride. He didn't want to look weak in front of _anybody. _The fever made him delirious, though, and it left his emotions and reaction unrestrained. The uninhibited human mind was one of the scariest parts of Sakura's job.

At the first surge of chakra that sought his lungs, Deidara clenched his teeth and threw his head back, the muscles in his neck straining. He was making noises that a caged animal would make, growls and grunts and snarling noises of capture. Hidan seemed a little more focused on his task, cursing Deidara for all he was worth, while Tobi seemed to be having no trouble at all keeping Deidara's legs down.

Deidara's left lung wasn't quite as infected as his right, so she decided to leave it alone for the time being.

"He's going to start gagging in a minute," Sakura warned, as the chakra enveloped a large bacterial mass and forced Deidara to cough it up. She instructed Hidan to allow him to sit up, but keep a hold on him, and he did. A blanket strewn over his lap served as a net for the gunk that he choked out, struggling for breath. He resisted even more the second time Sakura drove a lump of muck through his throat, and by the third time, she realized that she just couldn't do it with him thrashing around as he was, occasionally breaking free from Hidan and Tobi's grasps now that he had shaken off a good portion of the delirium. Not enough to realize that she was helping him, though, apparently. She'd suffocate him if she tried to force any more from his lungs like this.

"Get the _hell_ off me...yeah..."

Sakura broke her contact with the healing chakra and growled, thoroughly frustrated.

"I'm _trying_ to—_ow!_ Don't you hit me, asshole!" She rubbed the side of her head, where he'd been able to kick her. Sakura pinned down his arms and chest with the side of her arm and tried to maneuver her other hand across his ribcage when Hidan lost his grip.

"Bitch, you're not gonna kill us!"

_"Idiot._ I'm not trying to kill you! Sit still for one damn minute...you have _pneumonia..._ Oh, for the love of crap."

The worst part was that everyone else had joined her in the living room, and now seemed to be enjoying the spectacle, looking on with such fascination that Sakura felt like she'd have to make an encore when this shit was over and done with.

"Stop fucking moving around! Seriously, you're—" Hidan coughed directly into Deidara's face.

"You're all trying to kill me!" Deidara wailed.

"Hidan!" Sakura bit. "That's not helping!"

"Oh, like I can fucking help it," he snapped back, staring daggers at her through another uncontrollable coughing fit. "I've been coughing ever since _this _idiot got sick."

"Great," Sakura mumbled to herself, wiping more sweat from Deidara. He was very uncomfortable with this, if the way he shied away from her touch was any indication. He'd since ceased to try and wrench free, but that didn't mean he was being at all subservient.

She pushed the last bit of bacteria that she could out of him, and when Sakura gave the signal, Hidan and Tobi released Deidara. He coughed into the blanket violently, hacking and gagging, his eyes watering until tears streaked down his cheeks. When he was finished he glared at her, sniffling once as he gasped for air.

Sakura wasn't surprised in the slightest when the blond paid no further formalities of his personality and dropped onto his side, asleep in seconds.

"What a disgusting little bitch," Hidan lamented, coughing from deep in his chest to compliment the statement.

"Oh, no," Sakura sighed, pushing down on her knees as she rose from the carpet. "You're not getting away that easy. I need to check you out, too."

"Flattered, but no fucking way. I don't get sick."

Sakura rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth. "You've got to be kidding me. You sound like you've got a swimming pool in there."

Hidan's eyes narrowed. He stood up and began to back away slowly, a cagey expression on his face. Sakura stared incredulously at his retreating form all the way into the bathroom and behind a door, which he slammed and locked loudly. He never missed the chance to make a statement.

"Okay, then… Tobi?"

"Tobi will do anything Sakura says."

"Give me your kidney. Come on, rip it out. I need the proteins for this extraction."

He looked honestly confused. "To—I don't have the right stuff to—"

"I'm kidding."

"What?"

"Never mind. I see that humor is wasted here." And frankly, it was a pretty stupid attempt at a joke, anyway. Sakura felt a surge of longing for Naruto's constant stream of good nature. _He_ would've thought it was funny. Maybe Tobi and Naruto weren't so alike after all.

"I just need to check something really quick, okay?" Sakura beckoned with a gloved hand. "Come sit over here in front of me.

Tobi obliged willingly, and Sakura found, to her pleasant surprise, that Tobi's lungs were mostly clean—nothing a little antibiotics and the injection wouldn't help. A quick check on Itachi revealed the same results. Sakura smiled. Well, now. It wasn't as bad as she had thought. Except for Hidan, maybe, but who knew how long it would be until she managed to subdue him for the five minutes it took to scan the tissues?

She looked down at Deidara, who had since wrapped his arms around his side in an effort to calm himself down or get warmer, one of the two. Sakura took the soiled blanket and folded it so that the stuff he had coughed up was wrapped on the inside, then set it down. She threw a clean blanket over the quivering man, deciding to slip a pillow under his head after he'd slept longer. The more he slept, the faster the recovery. In fact, his breathing was already lacking that liquid rumble. Wonderful.

Sakura peeled the gloves off, glad to be rid of their stifling confines. She turned to the watching men standing around in her living room, slightly miffed at Deidara, who was currently taking up all of the room on the couch. They each met her gaze for a moment before dissipating to separate areas of the house. Kakuzu remained standing, though, watching her carefully. Blinking at him, Sakura experienced several fleeting moments of embarrassment and self-consciousness. She hoped she didn't have any of Deidara's lung-funk on her clothes or anything. How humiliating would _that _be?

Kisame peeked curiously at them from inside the kitchen.

"Oh, right," Sakura mumbled. "I needed to talk to you about something. Wanna do it in the bedroom?"

Kisame's eyes widened just a fraction before he retreated to his post in front of the refrigerator, inspecting the magnets perhaps too closely.

Kakuzu's scrutiny never wavered. "Fine."

Kisame's concentrated very, _very _hard on the fridge magnets, and his brow furrowed. He wasn't fooling anyone, and he probably knew this besides. Sakura decided it wasn't worth the explanation. If he wanted to think some lewd sexual exchange was taking place, well, to hell with it. Somewhere along the line she had decided that it was better to let people think what they want. Especially when those people were seven Akatsuki members—ex-Akatsuki, technically—living half the time as humans and half the time as kittens in her tiny apartment.

Also, it was pretty funny. Her and _this_ guy? The very thought! She cleared her throat nervously and slipped down the hallway, Kakuzu close behind.

The further down the hallway she walked, the sillier she felt. Kakuzu's presence was heavy behind her, and his footsteps heavier. Why had she thought that Kakuzu felt _anything_ toward her at all, besides maybe a microscopic sense of loyalty—this came with the territory of being _the only thing keeping him alive—_or a handful of expertly veiled hate? She felt like an overzealous academy student, making mountains out of molehills all over again. The only person in this house that she could say _for sure _felt any measure of attraction toward her or affection for her was Zetsu. Quiet, contemplative, stoic Zetsu, who hid one flurry of a personality behind all of those assiduously placed façades.

When she opened the door to her bedroom and ushered Kakuzu in, she felt significantly less confident than she had before. Maybe he noticed and maybe he didn't, but if he did, he definitely didn't show it. He strode inside and claimed a spot leaning against her dresser, arms folded. Sakura closed the door behind her and chose to sit on her bed, cross-legged.

"What do you want?" he finally asked, without any hint of emotion at all.

"You and Zetsu both have this bad habit of lying to me," she said, and she almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

Kakuzu didn't look amused by her declaration. In fact, Kakuzu didn't look much of anything except one very pissed off ninety-one-year-old who just happened to look not a day over thirty. It frightened Sakura to learn that she didn't even mind this. Something way, way, _way _back in the dark, dank, lonely recesses of her mind had started to plant a very small seed of attraction toward Kakuzu, but she picked out the side and smashed it between her fingers before it could even begin to grow.

"What do you want?" he repeated. His voice was cold. He was never this cold before. Stoic, yes. Not cold. There was something there. He was _forcing _himself to be cold, or he was putting up a guard.

The seed was planted again.

Sakura tried to think back on the lectures she had given to apprentice medic-nin: how to handle the situation properly, with poise and a deep sense of understanding. She took a deep breath and stood. It was better for appearances, and she didn't feel quite so unimportant that way. "We," she began, looking straight into Kakuzu's face, "have a relationship."

His facial expression didn't shift, as she had expected it to. He stared at her, immobile.

"It's almost like a parasitic relationship," she continued, beginning to pace around the room, walking around her bed and to the window. She spoke a little louder. "I'd like to say it's a form of commensalisms, because so far nothing _horrible _has happened, but…it's starting to feel a lot more like symbiosis." She turned to face him. "Are you following me?"

"What you're trying to say," Kakuzu said, sounding more peeved than cold, now, "is that now it's a give-and-take relationship? Things are balancing out."

"Yes." She was so glad she didn't have to explain that. "And…I'd like to keep it that way. I mean, I don't want to keep you all around. Absolutely _not." _And here is where she lost her professional composure. "But I want to keep the relationship at the symbiotic level. And to keep it at that level, it would help if we were honest with each other."

"What are you getting at?" he growled. He sounded impatient. Had he always been impatient?

"I'm getting at the fact that you have to stop lying about things to me, _especially _when these things _directly involve _me."

"Such as?"

Sakura swallowed hard. "Such as the _Suna _incident. With the insane shinobi trying to kill us?"

"Me. Not 'us.'"

"Whatever! Is there even a distinction between 'me' and 'us' anymore? How far has the line blurred? How dependant have you all become on me?"

He didn't answer her. The question was rhetorical anyway.

Silence passed. And then more silence. Sakura shook her head. "I need to know," she said, quietly. "You have to tell me so that I can help you all. I…I don't want you to be in this situation anymore than _you _want to be in it."

"You're being hypocritical."

"How?"

"'It would help if we were honest with each other.' Those are your words."

"And?"

"And you're not being honest. Our situation only concerns you as far as it concerns yourself. If something were to happen so that we were no longer under your care, your interest in our welfare would end."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is."

"You don't even _know _me! How can you make assumptions like that? I…I _do _care about what happens to you guys. I want you all to be free of this curse or this jutsu or whatever it is, so you can go on and live your life." She sat back down on her bed, defeated. "Granted, I'd like it if you lived your life _without _having to run around killing people and trying to take control of the known world and everything, but we all have our secret wishes." She took a pillow and shoved it over her face, and then decided this was not a good idea while a very irate Kakuzu was in the room. "Look, I never intended for the conversation to deteriorate to this level. All I want to know is who that woman in Suna was, and why she was after you."

"You're not in any danger."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"Then it doesn't involve you."

"For fuck's sake, Kakuzu! Could you think about someone besides yourself for one second? One shinobi got away. We know that much. What if—?"

"'What if' doesn't exist in this situation." He was getting more heated, biting the inside of his cheek stiffly every so often. Sakura decided she should probably tone done her interrogation a bit.

"I know she was from Waterfall. I know that she had some sort of prior relationship with you that she was angry about. I know a lot of your backstory. When you failed to assassinate the Hokage,"—and here is where she flinched, very slightly—"when you returned to your village, and they threw you in prison. I know about when you broke out and killed the village elders. I _know, _Kakuzu."

He hadn't looked at her for quite some time. 

"I just want to know whether or not that shinobi will someone back for me, or for us. I want to know why they were after you."

He looked, for a split second, like he might answer. But he didn't.

"It doesn't involve you. No one is in danger. They won't come for me again." He stood up straight, now, unfolding his arms. "End of story. I'm done talking." He didn't leave, as she expected him to, but instead stood and stared not at her, but some point beyond her head. Maybe out the window.

"I'm not done talking," she said softly, brining her knees to her chin. The full weight of the situation—the Akatsuki living as kittens in her home, Zetsu's actions, Kakuzu's lack of actions, the woman in Suna—swelled and then crested over her, dragging her down with the undercurrent. And in truth, she felt smothered, drowned, starved for air, like she was in a very small, very dark room. What could she do now? There was no one to help her; there was no one to tell. There was just Sakura and the Akatsuki, who were helpless animals half of the time.

She shifted her gaze to look at the water contact on Kakuzu's arm. It was silly. Everything had been silly up until now, up until Suna. She was grateful for the perspective, but at the same time, she wished things had just remained how they were: kittens sleeping on top of her, Hidan and Deidara breaking a vase and grudgingly sharing the blame, Tobi folding towels in the bathroom, Kisame watching cooking shows, Itachi organizing her books, Kakuzu being…well, normal Kakuzu. Not this Kakuzu who was all too real and all too distant.

"I feel like we're tearing apart."

For several long moments, each regarded the other, and Sakura felt some intense pulling force tugging at her insides. Did any of them ever feel this incredible emotion? Or was it all lost the moment they sacrificed their lives to a doomed union?

"Okay, I can't fucking _take_ it anymore. Are you guys going to fuck or what? What's with all this 'tearing apart' shit? Feels like a fucking soap opera, seriously."

Honestly, Sakura couldn't say she was surprised. She closed her eyes, missing the heated fury Kakuzu directed at his partner, and turned, preparing to grab at the silver-haired man. Because dammit, he was going to get a checkup even at the expense of her dignity. The longer she waited, the more in danger everyone else was from becoming contaminated.

"Hidan, look, I—WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT?" Sakura shrieked, the chakra pulsing to her fists automatically.

Hidan grinned maniacally, tilting the video recorder to the side in order to peer at the furious kunoichi more intently. "Come on, take off your damn shirt or something. I'll even help."

Sakura whipped her head around at Kakuzu, who, for some reason, just stood there with a blank look on his face. She had a feeling it was instinct, bred into the man after long months of exposure to the most insane shinobi on earth. Because really, if this happened all the time, the only thing you _could_ do was pretend like nothing was happening.

"You won't _believe_ what I've got on this fucker," Hidan continued in an excited tone of voice. "I got shit on everyone."

"And you're going to have shit on _yourself_ here in a minute if you let that thing keep recording."

"The hell's that supposed to mean? Augh!"

Sakura lunged at Hidan, using the bedpost as leverage for her foot. She shot through the air horizontally, hoping to get a grasp on his feet. Unfortunately, Hidan hadn't evaded black ops for years and years with no side effects. He leapt nimbly out of the way and backpedaled out of the room, letting the camera trail out and catch one last heated glare before Sakura jumped up from the floor and shut the door with a loud slam.

She gasped and fumed, stomping her foot and not even caring that a block of ice watched her every move.

"Honestly," she huffed, turning to seize Kakuzu's green stare. "I don't know _how_ you managed to survive with _that_ all that time."

And there it was. He thawed a little.

"Oh," Sakura went on cautiously, ignoring Hidan's provocative whispers from beyond the crack beneath the door. "The thing I _really_ needed to talk to you about…I know you're all tired of being here in this tiny apartment with me, and that you're sick of being around each other."

Kakuzu blinked.

"So…for this last mission, I got a whole lot of money. I mean, a lot. So much that it's a complete waste of the treasury, but oh, well. She can't take it back now. I was thinking…about buying some land outside the city. Still in the Fire Country, but…away. I was going to look for a large plot of land—it's cheaper by the acre that way, anyway—and then hopefully there'd be an abandoned clan house or something. There are a lot of those out there."

Hidan's outline abruptly vanished, carrying his jubilant cries into the living room and into the kitchen.

"We're free! We're finally moving out of this shithole! Oh fuck, I could _kiss_ that ugly bitch."

"Anyway," Sakura continued with a smile. It really was hard not to smile at that idiot sometimes. _"Anyway,_ I was wanting to have your advice on that, since I know you know stuff about money. Do you think it's a good investment? Of course I'd move you guys out there first and bring my stuff gradually, later on. And it would be a bunch of land so you could run around and blow shit up or whatever you want to do, as long as you don't just take off."

And Kakuzu looked generally surprised. At first, Sakura took his reluctance to speak as disapproval, and scrambled to redeem herself.

"I mean, of course I didn't _secure_ anything, and if _you_ think it's a bad idea I would never even _consider—"_

Kakuzu snorted.

"My opinion really matters to you." It wasn't a question, and his tone was rather sarcastic-sounding besides.

"Well, I—of course." Sakura fumbled with her hands for a moment, settling on brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course your opinion matters to me. Especially with stuff like this, which I have no knowledge of. I mean, insurance and taxes and stuff. They're not the same when you have your own house, or are they?"

Kakuzu sighed and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling in thought.

"That would be the best course of action at the moment," he finally said. Sakura beamed and clasped her hands together. Maybe the old Kakuzu wasn't gone after all! Still buried there under layers of assholery.

A curiously irritated expression crossed his face, and he crossed his arms authoritatively. He _was_ there, wasn't he? He had to be. All that time on the mission couldn't have been a fabrication of her imagination. He _was_ there.

"I'm sure you're completely ignorant of common tax and house payment knowledge, as most people are. You're so naïve about money. You and everyone," Kakuzu grumbled.

Or maybe he wasn't, after all. Okay. Okay, she could work with this.

"Mortgage plans. What sort of interest rate are you wanting? What can you afford?"

"Uhh…"

O O O

A half an hour of Kakuzu's frustrated sighing, refusals to give Sakura a goddamn economics class, because she should _know _this shit already, and Sakura was ready to make the big announcement. She didn't feel like she completely understood all of what Kakuzu had told her, but she understood the fundamentals, and that was all she needed for now. It was so strange how familial she felt with them, now, and how little she thought about their ex-Akatsuki status. And if she _did _happen to think about it, the negative connotations were gone. Here were men with their flair for the evil and destructive and egocentric ground down to the bone by an ordeal quite unfit for criminals. She was starting to think, now, that their leader had simply wanted to humiliate them.

Well, it had certainly done its number. They were all relatively humble, and relatively harmless. For now.

Sakura's announcement was delivered to seven pairs of eager eyes, amidst the occasional muted coughing of Deidara and the much harsher, fluidic coughs of Hidan. Deidara lay bundled in the blanket, still on the couch, peeking at her from under the covers. His eyes were red-rimmed and his eyelids heavy.

Hidan was trying his best to hide his condition all throughout her speech. He'd cough into his forearm, turn around and gag until his eyes watered and he was short of breath. It took Sakura to really gather all the information and piece it together after she had finished and they had all expressed their immense joy at relocating. Hidan's religion had made him immortal, but the religion had certain stipulations, from what she knew. To remain immortal, he had to ritually sacrifice people to his "god." When Hidan had become a kitten for the first time, he hadn't been able to sacrifice, and he still wasn't. She didn't know how long he'd gone without a sacrifice or even a _prayer _or _ritual, _for that matter, but she figured it was a long, long time.

If Hidan were immortal, then Hidan couldn't get sick. Or at least if he _did _get sick, then it would be very mild, and it would likely pass within a few hours, if it even got the chance to develop in the first place.

Hidan was sick. Very, very sick. Therefore, Hidan was mortal again.

Was that why he treasured that rosary so much? It was, quite literally, the last tie he had to his religion. She wondered how much this backslide from Jashinism really bothered him.

And that aside, there were infinitely more questions that she had kept under the radar until now. Where was Sasori? It was obvious that their leader would keep his female compatriot by his side, but Sasori was just a regular member. There was nothing special about him, if she could remember correctly, even after the fight where she'd thought him to be dead. (And honestly, the news that he was _still alive _some years later had shaken her badly.) Had their leader simply done away with him, unable to turn a man made of wood into a kitten? Had Sasori run away? Was he still out there, looking for his partners or plotting revenge?

Probably not. But still, these were things she wanted to know. She vowed to squeeze the details out of Zetsu later, or maybe Tobi. Zetsu could be rather stubborn and secretive when he wanted to be.

"Kakuzu is going to handle all of the paperwork and legal nonsense for me," Sakura said in her closing segment. "I'm going to go out and buy some boxes, packing tape, markers, and newspapers tomorrow. Can everyone help me pack?"

"Bullshit," Hidan said around a cough. He held onto the kitchen counter for purchase, his body trembling, and while Sakura watched intently—without his notice, of course—Hidan quickly cleaned the blood from the tiles with a sweep of his sleeve. He wasn't taking the "mortal again" thing too well, apparently. It didn't look like he wanted to accept it.

"And _you," _Sakura warned, though she spoke with a melancholic, tender tone, "need to be healed. I know you're not immortal anymore, Hidan. You need medical attention."

He didn't look very stunned to realize that she knew. He _did _look embarrassed, though, and he turned his back to her, trying to swallow another string of coughs and failing.

"So we'll have to share rooms?" Tobi affirmed. "I want to share a room with Deidara!"

"The hell you will!" Deidara called, weakly, from his spot on the couch. The blankets were still pulled up clear past his nose.

This opened up a whole new can of worms. The living room erupted into a flurry of arguments over who should share a room with whom, and who got the room that faced the west, and who got the room closest to the bathroom. Everyone but Kisame, Itachi, and, for the most part, Kakuzu, squabbled and bickered, shouting out reasons why their pick should hold priority over anyone else's. Sakura let them quarrel as they pleased, leaning back and watching all of them. Especially Hidan, who, at this point, was swaying on his feet and touching his fingers to his face quite often, as if making sure his head was still attached to his body.

"Fine!" Tobi proclaimed, balling his fists and stomping his foot. "If no one wants to share a room with me, then I'll sleep with Sakura!"

The argument got all that much louder. Kisame laughed, Itachi looked the other direction, and Kakuzu raised an eyebrow.

The fighting died down when Sakura spoke again. There were still some side conversations going on, though she ignored them. "Alright, then it's settled. In three days we should be all packed up and ready to go. I'll rent a wagon to take us out there and we can decide everything from there. Until then—"

Sakura leapt at Hidan, who was busy blinking hard and touching his face again to notice, and pinned him effectively against the carpet.

"The fuck?" was all he said before Sakura had a hand clamped to his forehead, straddling his waist and pressing her ear to his chest.

"You're almost as bad as Deidara was," she said, frowning at him. "Idiot. How could you let it get so bad? I _told _you that you needed some help."

"I don't need shit," he spat, struggling vainly to tear free from her. If he'd been in average health, he would have no problems, but in his weakened state, he was no match for Sakura. She could feel everyone's stares on her back.

"Zetsu, can you drag him to my room please? I need to quarantine him. Like right now."

"Yes." Zetsu did as asked, grabbing Hidan by the waist, after Sakura had climbed off of him, of course, and slinging him over his shoulder. Hidan kicked and hollered and scratched feeble red lines across Zetsu's shoulders and back, but it did nothing. Zetsu dropped Hidan on Sakura's bed, and Sakura was right behind him, hurrying to pin Hidan down.

Tobi came running into the room with rags left over from Deidara's ordeal, as well as a pair of rubber gloves. Hidan wrestled and fought far less than Deidara had, and she didn't know if this was good or bad. He must have been in as bad a form as Deidara, though he'd hid it well. There was no pride like Hidan's, that was for sure.

Kakuzu came in next, carrying, to her surprise, one of her metal salad bowls.

She took it from him with a soft thanks and a clear question in her expression.

"The blankets are a bad idea," Kakuzu explained, shifting his eyes slowly from Sakura to Hidan, panting and sweating but otherwise no longer denying treatment. "They can retain the bacteria, while metal can be disinfected easily."

"You're right," Sakura said, a little surprised. "Absolutely right. And thank you, again."

"Kakuzu was our surgeon," Tobi whispered, not so quietly.

"No," Kakuzu replied, sternly, "I wasn't." And then he walked out.

Zetsu took Tobi by the arm and led him out too, closing the door behind them.

A cough refocused Sakura's attention on the task at hand and she spun around quickly, hopping over piles of clothes on her floor to reach the man. Hidan glared and held his breath in an effort to curb the noise, but in the end that only made it worse. At one point he struggled to breathe at all.

"Okay," Sakura sighed, snapping the gloves on her hands. "Let's go."

"Fuck...you...bitch," Hidan ended his short tirade with another round of wheezing, stirring up some sympathy deep within Sakura's chest. Or maybe she had some phlegm in there herself.

"Oh, stop. Here." Sakura placed her hands on his chest and scanned his left lung, grimacing at the sheer amount of buildup clinging to the sides. It was _bad._ "You know," she continued. "I could've helped you earlier. Why did you run away?"

"I didn't run away. _Pussies_ run away."

"Yes, yes." She moved to the right lung. "So why were you...resisting? Honestly, this is ridiculous."

He pouted and turned his head, refusing to look her in the face. Sakura decided to attribute the whole thing to broken pride, and probably a heavy dose of stupidity. Obviously Kakuzu had been the brains in this little operation. Focusing her energy, Sakura centered in on the right lung and gently began to move the buildup around.

And in no time at all, most of it began to come loose, a lot more than Sakura expected. She caught most of it in the dish, a small portion God knows where, lost in her surprise at the suddenness of the virulent mass. Hidan gasped when it was over, the death rattle-like noise lessened but not totally gone.

Sakura stood to leave the room and deposit the waste in her bathroom when a clammy hand reached out and took her elbow in an iron grip. Shaken, she turned her head sharply at Hidan, making quick analytical assumptions about his mental state. You could never be too careful with him. But now, she wished she hadn't have looked, because he wore such an endearing expression on his face that she nearly shuddered in fear. This was so _wrong._

"I—" he gasped, coughed, and shivered. "I have to fucking _tell_ you something."

Sakura's eyes widened until she was sure they nearly covered her whole face.

"...Yes?" Oh, God. Was he going to--? No. No.

"I--I--I _want_ you."

Hidan closed his eyes and his head fell back, as though the strain of the confession were too much. Sakura nearly shrieked. Her vocal chords must have been shreds by then, what with all the emotional stress today had been firing at her.

"The _hell?"_

"I can't keep shit like this a secret." He shook his head slowly back and forth, eyes still closed. "No more. No more."

"Um, Hidan, I think you're--"

"NO!" His eyes snapped open and he clasped an ice-cold hand to her face, aiming for her lips and getting more upper left forehead than anything. "Be still. I have to tell you."

"Tell...me...?" Sakura wondered if jumping out the window would be considered radical at this point.

He rolled onto his stomach, sweat still gleaming from his entire body. His entire, mostly naked body. She'd left his pants on, though, by some otherworldly grace. He managed to slip his hand down to her cheeks, and he squeezed until her lips pouted. "It's so heavy on my fucking mind. So _hard."_

Don'ttalkaboutthingsbeinghardohgodpleasedon'tmeanthatliterally—

"Do you want me, Sakura?" he asked, and Sakura shook her head frantically. Hidan forced her head to nod, though, cheeks still in his hand. "I knew it."

"Mmmphrrg." Talking without the use of lips was a very interesting procedure. Hidan looked deep into her eyes, swaying in an effort to keep his upper body propped up, which knocked his head against Sakura's too many times to be quite comfortable.

"I love you," Hidan breathed. "I've fucking had a hard-on for you ever since we met at your mom's house, seriously."

_Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod._

"Hidan--"

"Call me fucking _darling."_

"Okay...fucking darling. We never _met_ anywhere, and you're suffering from severe delusion."

"Only without the fucking. For now."

"Um."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Sakura reached across his chest again, slower this time, deciding to try and loosen up some more in the other lung. The dish could handle a little more...

"Telling myself what?" She sighed, deciding to play a long. Fuck it. Fuck it all, reserves included.

"That I'm delusional. Seriously, I've never been so fucking alive in my entire life. I'm dying, and just now I see it. A spark of fucking wonder in the sea of destiny."

"Hidan, you're _really_ starting to freak me out now. There, I got some more loose." She propped him up, and he obliged willingly to a second round of retching. Soon after he grabbed her again with both hands.

_"Can't_ keep shit like that a secret. Run away with me. Run away...forever."

"Oh, my God."

"Indeed." And then he _leaned._ "Kiss me again. Just like we fucking used to."

"I'm going to kill myself for this."

"We'll make it a party."

And heaven help her, Sakura leaned back and gave him a peck on the cheek--Hidan strongly protested to the lack of tongue action--and then promptly wiped her lips down with the soapy rag. Why the hell not? It had been a while since she'd kissed anyone. And frankly, after the concentrated crazy previously released in the room, it felt good to end it all.

Hidan, thank goodness, fell back against the blankets, falling into an exhausted stupor. Sakura brushed her knees off and groaned out lout, muttering as she collected the metal dish and the rest of the supplies, but stopped dead when she turned around to face the doorway.

Oh, God. Tobi. He'd seen the _whole thing._

...

_He had the video camera._

"Oh, no you don't!" Sakura screamed, thanking Tobi's passive nature for shocking him at the piercing noise, because he immediately released the camera and put his hands behind his back, never mind that an extremely expensive piece of technology now lay in who-knows-what condition on her rug.

Hidan was still faintly mumbling, chanting "Kiss me again," like a mantra. She contemplated for a split second wiping the sweat from his body, but then vehemently protested such a thought. Not just no, but _hell _no. She'd rather deal with a hundred kicking, whining, stubborn Deidaras than one Shakespearian Hidan.

She collected the camcorder amongst a myriad of apologies of different lengths, tones, and languages, compliments of Tobi. She shoved it in her closet, warned him never to touch it again, and then took the metal bowl and all of her other supplies out into the kitchen to be cleaned.

What met her there was a mix of equal parts jealousy, humor, and disgust. Actually, Zetsu was the only one who looked even mildly jealous. Kisame and Deidara were laughing until they were crying, and Itachi and Kakuzu looked on at her with disgust. Tobi was still apologizing, tugging on her shirtsleeve.

"_What?" _she demanded, stalking to the kitchen and running the bowl under a stream of scalding water. She put the dirtied rags in plastic baggies and threw them in the trash.

"I can't believe you _kissed _him," Zetsu managed, wrinkling his nose. "He has pneumonia and everything."

"I didn't kiss him! I…I _pecked _him."

Kisame and Dediara looked like they were going to keel over and die. That couldn't be healthy for Deidara.

Kakuzu left the room and Itachi picked up a book he'd previously been absorbed in.

"A peck is still a kiss," Zetsu argued. _"And Hidan is going to be pissed when he realizes what happened."_

"And that's exactly why we're not going to tell him. Zetsu, sponge off Hidan's soaking wet body, please."

"I'll do it! As an apology!" Tobi insisted, and Sakura relented without a second thought. Tobi bounded down the hallway, rag in his hand, and Sakura suddenly felt a little bad for Hidan.

"He's going to kill you," Zetsu said, also watching Tobi disappear. "You realize this, don't you?"

"Yeah, well," Sakura sighed, squirting dish soap into the bowl. "He'll thank me in the end."

Zetsu looked distinctly mopey, and Sakura was slightly annoyed at this. "Thank you by giving you another kiss?"

The water contact was torn from Zetsu's wrist, and a distressed, mewling kitten was then thrust into Itachi's lap. "Don't let him turn back until he's thought about his actions and repented."

Itachi didn't even tear his eyes from the book. He scratched Zetsu behind the ears with one hand and turned the page with the other.

She threw on a jacket, grabbed her keys, and opened her front door. Rain was pattering on the steps of her porch outside. "I'm going to tell the Hokage that I'm moving," she said, rubbing her temples. "Kisame, _please, _I trust you that you'll keep everything in order? You've been the least destructive thus far."

Kisame, having just recovered from his laughing fit, nodded. "I'll make sure Hidan doesn't kill anybody when he wakes up."

"Good. I should be back in less than an hour, but if I'm not, go ahead and start writing my eulogy, because I'll likely have thrown myself off a bridge."

Deidara waved goodbye and Sakura slammed the door shut.


	11. XI

**Take It Or Leave It**

**XI.**

**A/N: **For information on the Take It or Leave It contest, please visit:

korinacaffeine(dot)deviantart(dot)com/journal/21794758/

O O O

Sakura plucked the last of the kittens from the box she carried, depositing them with care into the back of the wagon that would be the transport to her knew home. She clutched a large bundle of blankets in her arms from where it sat on the ground by her feet, tossing that in, as well. The last week, from filling out homeowner papers with Kakuzu to boxing up her belongings with the boys and sighing over all the work she'd have to do to fix up the new house, had really worn her down. For now, at least, she'd have the Akatsuki out of her hair.

When she went to check out the plot Tsunade had suggested—luckily for Sakura, she heartily approved of the change in scenery—Sakura realized that she'd have her work cut out for her. The house had belonged to a wealthy family, meaning in square footage she was purchasing a steal, but on closer inspection to the leaks and crannies in the walls, the rest of her paycheck would start on facelifts for the place. Oh, well, at least nothing was wrong with the land.

But today, she had decided to move the kittens to the house first, leave them there, come back in the wagon, and then begin shuffling her things from one place to the other. Sakura gave one more glance back at the first place she ever lived alone and then vaulted herself into the seat right behind the driver where she could monitor the kittens' behavior.

They were all getting very ornery lately with the exception of Deidara and Hidan, who needed to be moved as soon as possible. The sooner they got back to their human forms the better, because Sakura didn't know how much the human pneumonia wore on their kitten transformations. It shouldn't have breached the species, but the lethargy and watery coughing still remained.

"I'm ready," Sakura briskly informed the driver, and with a jerk of the horse, they were off.

In the end it only took an hour and a half to get there, which was good for Sakura because she still had work regardless of living status. With as little fuss as possible, Sakura motioned for the driver to wait outside and took the blankets into her arms, calling to the kittens to follow. Thankfully, they complied obediently.

Inside the house, Sakura shut the sliding door behind her and immediately spread the blankets out in one of the guest bedrooms, creating two mattress and pillow sets with what she had. Using moisture dripping languidly down the wall, she wet both Deidara and Hidan and—ignoring the protests—situated them in their temporary beds. There was no need for the water contact, she soon observed; the sheer amount of sweat conjured by the fever kept them damp enough. Still, as an afterthought, she placed a small amount of chakra in their system to keep their adrenaline down, hoping they wouldn't be idiots and try to get up and move around.

Quick successions of pops came from behind her, and she dashed toward the door without looking to see who it was.

"Take care of them, or you're all going to get it!" She yelled over her shoulder, and skidded to a stop before the bewildered farmer, who was possibly considering whether it was worth the money to transport such a strange woman back and forth to this place for the next two days.

But of course it was. Sakura flashed a quick smile and without another hitch, they trotted in the direction of Konoha to pick up Sakura's kitchenware.

O O O

Hidan coughed and shuddered, rolling onto his back and spreading his arms out as far as they would go. He found some slight amusement in the lingering numbness from sleeping on them the wrong way for so long, and flopped his right hand back by the elbow so that it hit the man sleeping beside him. Really, it was sad that this was the only way to have fun these days—and now with a whole expanse of land at his fingertips! Wasn't _this_ a damn good time to get sick.

"Mmph. Stobbit," Deidara mumbled. _"Kill _you."

Hidan coughed weakly. _"Fuck_ you."

"Mmm." Deidara jerked the length of his body so that the mattress and pillow scooted away from the silver-haired man. The shuffles ceased somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and Hidan heard the deep sigh people made right before they fell asleep.

So there went a previously constant source of amusement.

Tobi poked his head in the door curiously.

"Hidan? Just checking on—"

"_Go the fuck away."_

"But Miss Sakura said she would—"

"_Go. Away."_

He left. At least _someone_ allowed him to boss them around. It was a nice feeling, being obeyed. Seemed like his whole life was a stream of bossiness from a pink-haired bitch who currently ruled his entire world. And oh jeez, the boxes. That was officially the most miserable day of his existence. Two lungs full of white shit and she _still_ made him tape those things. He remembered it very clearly. Too clearly, in fact, and he groaned and rolled over, playing the memory one more time over in his head. He had to make sure he got all the details right so he could veritably punish someone for it later. (Whoever that someone happened to be, whether it be Sakura—yeah right—or Tobi.)

"Okay guys," the harpy—Sakura—had screeched from over a finished box of pillows. "Everyone keep boxing. You too, Hidan!"

"What?" he'd whined in response, rolling his head back. That bitch hadn't given him one minute of peace since the healing incident. And to top it all off, she'd acted a little different around him. Sometimes more wary, sometimes a little giggly, and sometimes just downright confusing. Not that she wasn't downright confusing _any_way, but any more so threatened to give him splitting headaches that normally didn't happen when he'd been immortal.

"You especially, Hidan. Yours are all terrible!"

And then he'd known she was going to die. Slowly. _Painfully. _"Hey! I am fucking _dying_ here, and you expect me to know exactly how to do this shit? Seriously, I'm not a damn miracle man."

"Hidan." She'd put a hand to her pretty little forehead, groaning his name, though not in the way he'd like. It was more of an exasperated groan. "Look at your boxes. Come on. Just look."

He'd looked. Okay, so some of them had flaps that stuck out from over the pieces already taped down, and half the time the tape snaked towards the edge instead of down the middle of the seams, but so what? They were _taped._ She should have been happy that he'd been helping at _all _when he very easily could've feigned sudden sickness or just gagged all over someone and then been sent to quarantine, AKA the bathroom. "Yeah, well—hey, you can't expect me to be good at this crap."

Deidara had glanced up from his corner of assorted dishes and silverware, quickly resuming his concentrated care upon box number seven. Which had perfectly straight lines of duct tape. At exact ninety-degree angles when viewed from the side. That bastard, with his artistic propensities and his ass-kissing and his stupid fucking expression.

It had really been a breaking point, anyway, because he swore at three quilts and a pillow set. "Just because I'm not perfect like Mister Pussy Artist over there doesn't mean I can't get it done." And so instead of finishing his third box at medium crappiness, Hidan had gone the whole nine yards and finished seven at maximum suckage.

He rolled over in bed again, kicked Deidara none-too-lightly when the girly man groaned in protest at his movements, and harrumphed. He vaguely remembered something about Sakura yelling again, and then she took apart _all_ of his boxes, imploring Deidara with huge quivering eyes if he would finish Hidan's because he was just _so_ talented and _patient_ and weren't you just the most helpful of them all?

Son-of-a-bitch. Deidara had _smiled_ at her. With _teeth._ And then when she turned around he _sneered_ at poor, inartistic Hidan.

Feeling severely wronged, Hidan peered over his shoulder again at the softly wheezing blond and glared, making mental note to punch him in the dick as soon as possible.

O O O

Back crying out in protest, Sakura leaned down and grabbed the soles of her feet, leaning slightly and wincing at the strain of a whole day's worth of back and forth, back and forth. _Finally, _all of her boxes were here, and _finally_ she could start to unpack. Now, the whole idea of packing seemed a bit extravagant with the full implications of the unpacking necessary to negate, but she could, at least, hopefully get some sleep.

Actually, unpacking could wait until tomorrow. It was late and dark and there was no electricity, so…bed sounded best. Sakura sliced open a single box with a kunai and removed two quilts and a pillow, all thoughts of peaceful rest flying out the window (shattering the glass and making a crash-landing in the grass outside) the second she turned around and saw the welcoming party. They, all five of them, with Deidara and Hidan already missing, were all waiting, shuffling awkwardly. What would they be waiting for? All of the boxes had been brought in. They were done for the night.

Oh, right. Rooms.

The house contained nine bedrooms in all, sectioned off into two different portions. The front portion contained a large "master" bedroom, the dining room, kitchen, main bathroom, and den. There was a small walkway to accommodate the split in the house that led to the back portion. The back portion contained the other eight rooms, two bathrooms, and a series of what seemed to be hall closets. It was a one-story, sprawling house that had most likely been used as an old clan headquarters. Now, though, it was slightly run-down and rife with rumors of ghostly activity. Sakura, of course, did not buy into the ghostly activity part, mostly because the house was laughably cheap and there had to just be something wrong with the pipes or something.

"Well?" She put tired hands on her hips. "You all can pick your own rooms. Except the one in this portion of the house. This one is mine."

Nobody moved. She could see Tobi chewing his lip thoughtfully.

"Just make sure you let Hidan and Deidara know they have to choose their rooms. If they're asleep, leave them be until the morning."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Zetsu finally said, rubbing the back of his head.

"What? Leaving them until morning? They'll be—"

"No. _You shouldn't stay in this room up here alone."_

"He's right, you know," Tobi piped in, softly. "What if Sakura was attacked? We would be all the way on the other side of the house and across the walkway. We wouldn't hear you!"

"First off," Sakura said, laying down the law with a tap of her foot, "I can take care of myself, thanks. If I need your help, then I'll definitely notify you. And secondly, I sincerely doubt that there is anyone out there at the moment that would have a reason to attack me."

Zetsu turned and looked pointedly at Kakuzu. He wasn't hiding the contempt in his expression.

Kakuzu's expression remained frightfully blank.

Kisame, ever-observant, did not miss this exchange. He looked slowly from Sakura, to Zetsu, to Kakuzu, and then back to Sakura. "Who attacked you in Suna?" he asked. He did not sound angry or disappointed or even offended. It was a simple, level question, and that was what startled Sakura the most. _None _of the Akatsuki were _ever _simple and level. Well, except maybe Itachi, but Itachi was currently watching the scene play out with a very mild interest. He seemed more concerned with the cream-colored wallpaper, to be completely honest.

Sakura spoke, hoping to beat Zetsu and his mouth to the jump. "N—"

But apparently Zetsu did not care that she had spoken first, as he cut her off loudly. "Someone attacked Kakuzu." He left the answer vague, thankfully, though Tobi looked at Kakuzu with an expression that Sakura had never seen on him. Tobi looked more like the dangerous criminal she knew he was in that moment and the image scored itself into Sakura's mind.

"You should have said something," Tobi said, and every ounce of boyish innocence had since dripped from his voice. "This involves _all _of us."

Even Itachi looked dismayed at this new information, though he did not speak. He merely watched.

At that moment Hidan stumbled into the living room, with Sakura and her quilts and pillows and the other conscious Akatsuki members staring accusingly at both Kakuzu _and _Zetsu.

"What the fuck?" he interjected, stuffy nose and all. "What did they do this time?"

"Kakuzu and Zetsu have failed to deliver vital information," Itachi spoke coolly.

"About what? The curse? Well what the hell, why are you two holding out on us?"

"No," Kisame said, and he stepped to stand beside Itachi. "Not about the curse. About a battle that occurred in Suna. Zetsu was just telling us that Kakuzu was attacked."

Sakura could feel the tension. Zetsu was looking fine with the situation, but the glower on Kakuzu's face was darkening by the second. He was feeling cornered, of this she could tell. Not intimidated, but increasingly cut off, and she didn't like it that he was being targeted.

"Enough," Sakura said, marching up to the agitated group of men and stepping between Kakuzu and the rest of them. "What's with the third degree, huh? It's as much my fault as it is theirs."

"You aren't expected to know to relay such information," Itachi said, and out of habit, when he looked into her eyes, Sakura looked away. "You had not been, at any point in the past, a partner or a comrade. I did, however, expect Zetsu and Kakuzu to relate any pressing details." That was Itachi, all right. Never speaking for anyone else.

"_Still," _Sakura said, looking behind her at Kakuzu, who was looking at absolutely no one. His jaw was set, though, and she could tell it was all he had in him not to lash out. These men were still veritable killing machines, cursed or not. Something could set them off at a moment's notice, and then she'd really have trouble on her hands. "You can't…" And now she had forgotten what point she was trying to make. Why was she defending Kakuzu in the first place? Did he even _need _defending?

"It was my business. I wasn't aware that I was expected to _relay_ personal details," Kakuzu bit from behind her, putting an almost mocking emphasis on "relay." He was facing the group now, positively looming. He put a hand on Sakura's shoulder and shoved her out of the way, but there was no force in the shove. It was, nonetheless, still a shove.

She didn't stumble or anything, but Tobi stood beside her, holding her arm and glaring at Kakuzu like he'd just committed some crime most foul. It was probably Sakura's fault that Tobi reacted the way he did, because after the shove she looked up at Kakuzu like he'd just rejected a declaration of love and then kicked her puppy. Which, in reality, was very much how it felt. She had formed a morbid tryst of sorts with Kakuzu, or at least a pact of friendship, and he'd nearly broken it with that action alone. Besides, she'd just been _defending _his ass. He should have at least been appreciative of that.

Kakuzu, leaning most of his weight on one hip and staring at Zetsu intently, said very, very little. He also moved very, very little. His eyes were a dead giveaway, though, and Sakura, not for the first time, felt very, very frightened of Kakuzu. She didn't feel frightened in the sense that she thought he was going to physically harm her; no, no, that was, without a doubt, one of the last things on his mind. She was frightened, however, of what his next actions would be. If he started a fight with someone, she didn't think she could stop it. And she didn't think anyone else would be willing to _help _her stop it. Tobi seemed to sense this, because he drew Sakura protectively into his chest, his arms wrapped full around her upper body. Sakura didn't have the will to protest. She was much too focused on Kakuzu and his cocky stance.

"So why the fuck didn't _you _tell us, Zetsu?" Hidan supplied, and Sakura wanted to kiss him out of sheer gratitude.

Zetsu shook his head, disengaging himself from the group. He scooped up a box filled with bedding material. "Like Kakuzu said, it was his business. I don't enjoy telling things that someone might not want to be told. _But it needed to come out eventually."_

Sakura pulled away from Tobi, who released her without a word. Kakuzu had since disappeared down the hall and toward the lower section of the house. Slowly but surely, the situation was calming down, and everyone milled about, picking up blankets and pillows and heading for the back of the house.

Sakura sighed and put a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes. When she opened them, Itachi was standing in front of her, staring. She almost jumped out of her skin.

"You'll have to hold a brief meeting tomorrow," Itachi said, _ordered _in that condescending damn tone of his. "It is Zetsu and Kakuzu's responsibility to tell us the details of the attack so that we can be certain we will not be targeted here."

"No one is going to attack us in Konoha," Sakura said resolutely, still refusing to look at his eyes. "I can _assure _you, Itachi."

"You have no way of knowing that."

Before she could tell him to shove his eloquence and his aloofness and his likeness to his fucking brother _right _up his ass, Itachi was gone, and Sakura was alone in the living room. A drip of water fell into a puddle near the door like a drop of glass on a metal sheet, echoing in the lifeless corridor, reminding her of the months and months of remodeling ahead of her. Finding no other woes currently available to cling to in sorrow, Sakura slowly picked up her quilts and pillow and tiptoed across the den to her new bedroom, well aware that every man in the house could hear her every movement. Damn ninjas.

Pleasantly, her room actually wasn't all that bad as far as condition went. No pipes poked out garishly from faded wallpaper, the hardwood floors stretched even and smooth across the whole span. No doors or windows hung from hinges, and even the curtains appeared recently dusted. In fact, it looked almost immaculate. The moonlight filtered through the black gauze shifted, and suddenly Sakura knew why. She clutched her makeshift bed to her chest as a sudden chill swept down her spine.

Huge bloodstains swept across the floor, imbedded in the wood, splattered out at odd angles and sometimes drug out in a wide line as if someone had tried to get up and fell repeatedly. Sakura shuffled into the room slowly, every creak and moan the house made shrieking loudly in her ears. Upon closer inspection, the stains could've been nearly antique—now they appeared merely a part of the whorls and concaves of the wooden floor. Still, the starkness of their placement and implications of every bloody handprint unnerved her in a way it shouldn't have.

As she skirted the framework to avoid the largest spot in the middle a flash of silver caught her eye. A fire poker, in the corner, rusted and tarnished across the whole of its slender length. Apparently the family decided to leave the murder weapon here as a reminder of sorts. The same curious stains coated the dainty apparatus, producing an almost vulgar effect: the colors of old death blanketing the femininity of the device's sinuous extremities. She moved closer.

"I guess this is why I got this place so cheap," she breathed, then felt guilty at breaking the ancient reverence.

"Looks like it, yeah. Are you scared?"

Sakura immediately dropped her linens and tensed, nearly jumping out of her skin. She bit back a scream and spun around to face Deidara, in all his sniffling, red-rimmed-eyes glory, smiling smugly at her panicked reaction.

"_Deidara."_

"Me."

"Why did you _do_ that? God, I oughtta—why aren't you lying down?"

"I got bored. And Hidan's an asshole. I feel a lot better, yeah."

"Thanks to me."

He rolled his eyes languidly. "I suppose if you want to rub it in, yes." He turned his eyes back to the room. "I wonder who beat her to death. And why. Guess we'll never know. Well, you might, if what's-her-face lets you check the archives, yeah."

"Tsunade? Wait, how do you know it was a woman?"

"I'm not being sexist, if that's what you're implying. Look." He stepped confidently into the middle of the discolored space and pointed to the side. "These handprints are small, but too matured to be a child's. This footprint, here. It looks like a slipper a noblewoman might wear. That smear over there." He strode nearest the far wall and continued. "It's wide and smooth, like someone was dragged across it, and there's a little piece of silk from a woman's nightdress at the end of it. It's all speculation, but I'm pretty sure, yeah." He coughed and returned to Sakura's side.

"Wow," she mumbled. "You're good. Experience?"

He gave her a dirty look.

"I don't mean like that," Sakura bit back disparagingly. "I mean, like, forensic science."

"Oh. No. That was just guessing, not science work. Having you react like that I definitely know you weren't on a forensics team. It's never that easy. You have to do blood work, and sampling—"

"I know, I know!" Jeez, every time she tried to compliment one of them… "I was just…flattering you. Trying to _not_ act like a bitch on my period, you know?" She glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he'd remember that particular incident.

He did. "Yeah…but that's some shitty flattering," he snorted, and then paused. "So…what went on back there? That was pretty exciting. Isn't it great how they get all worked up and dramatic like that? It's like watching court TV. When Kisame's not watching the cooking channel, anyway, yeah."

Sakura's brow furrowed. "You think that was funny? Did you hear how they were _talking_ to each other? Did you see how they treated _me?_ I seriously thought they were going to kill each other, yeah—um, I mean…you know."

Deidara laughed, a real laugh this time and not a mockery. "Rubbing off on you already? You should've seen Sasori the first time he did it, yeah. Priceless."

"Why _do_ you do that? Moving on, it was horrible. And Kakuzu shoved me. And Tobi freaked me out really bad. Zetsu was an ass. He never should've said anything. For once I'm grateful Hidan was here. He actually kind of broke things up, believe it or not."

"I know. I was there, right? I told you that. But you shouldn't be—are you crying? Over _this?"_

"_No." _Sakura sniffed loudly, covering her face with shaking hands.

"Just dirt in your eye? Whatever, but don't get worked up over that shit. Trust me; they do it all the time. If I felt up to it, I'm sure I'd join right in, yeah. Don't be scared of us. We can't kill you, remember?"

"I'd rather you not _want_ to kill me rather than _can't,_ but fuck it. And I'm not scared, I'm worried. About what would happen if this got out—and trust me, I'd toss most of you out the second I could if it weren't for the fact that it's not possible. The curse keeps me from getting rid of you."

At this Deidara looked genuinely surprised. "Really? Why didn't you say something?"

"Well…" Sakura sighed, leaning against Deidara's shoulder unconsciously. She hadn't remembered sitting down, to be perfectly honest. "At first I thought it was some fucked up maternal instinct, but after a while I was just like…no. Something is _keeping_ me from dumping you all on the Hokage's desk."

"It's love, isn't it."

"Oh, shut up." She briefly considered slapping away his grin, but resumed. This needed to come out. "It's like every time I feel like strangling one of you this uncomfortable feeling wells up in me. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but I think it's part of the curse. But while I can't do anything about it, I might as well do what I can to make this as mutually beneficial as possible, you know?" Deidara nodded slowly. "I got some books in Suna. About cats and curses and stuff. Maybe it'll work, maybe not."

"Hmm."

"…Deidara?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's get out of here."

He immediately tensed and whipped his head around to eye her warily. "What?"

"I mean it. Let's leave."

"But we—" He ran a hand through his bed-mussed hair. "We don't even _know_ each other that well. Are you okay?" He ran the same hand briefly over her forehead.

"Deidara, what the hell are you—oh. _Oh."_ And the room's dark aura broke. Sakura tipped over on her side laughing, laughing until it hurt unbearably.

"I don't mean—" She giggled madly. "I don't mean I want you to run _away_ with me, I meant I want to leave this room. Come on, it's creeping me out." She stood and stretched, held a hand out from Deidara—this was ignored with a light glare—and padded out of the room with him following closely behind. Once they both got out he shut the door behind them and sighed deeply. Sakura turned back around and blinked. Was he upset?

"Hey, are you okay? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?"

Another nasty look. _"Fuck_ no. You scared the _shit_ out of me, yeah. 'Let's get out of here,' damn." He peered over her shoulder and met her eyes again. "Company, miss," he mumbled sarcastically, and then he disappeared back down the hallway toward the sick room. Sakura circled to meet her greeter, already having a good idea of who it would be. Zetsu would probably come to apologize or try to make amends, and Kakuzu would come to…well, be Kakuzu. Maybe.

Neither Kakuzu nor Zetsu slunk out of the shadows of the darkened hallways, though, and instead Tobi's face became vividly clear to her in whatever moonlight dripped through the windows. He carried himself in a considerably different manner, though, with his back straighter and his steps more confident. His features, somehow, seemed sharper, even—more hardened. Here was a Tobi that she didn't know, had only seen maybe once or twice, and he walked toward her with an assertive, deliberate sort of promenade.

Sakura felt quite trapped in that moment, but she held herself high and stood her ground. And yet the closer Tobi strolled toward her, the more something seemed off. He—

It hit her in the same way a cold tidal wave would, and she faltered, if only for a second. Tobi's chakra was different. It was untapped. All of the other Akatsuki members—when under the curse—_hampered _chakra!—but Tobi had no such hampering, with full, flaring chakra that surged in a hot, bubbling mass down the hallway and around her and she could feel it in her toes, in her fingers, in her very _bones—something wasn't right with him._

Acting on a pure instinctual, adrenaline-fueled urge, she stretched trellising fingers of her own chakra across as much of what she could reach of the house. She was searching for one of the other boys, and wanted to hopefully gain their attention with her net. She had no idea what Tobi was capable of. They, however, did. And she especially was wary of Tobi when his chakra was just about _boiling _and _suffocating _and _everywhere all at once. _

She'd known there was a different side to Tobi, one she thought he was very likely hiding, and now she could see that side in full-view. Whether he was showcasing it to her as a threat of some sort or for some other undecipherable reason, Sakura could not tell, but she stretched her chakra as far as it would reach. Tobi's chakra completely encompassed the net, and she knew he knew what she was doing, but he didn't seem to care.

Finally, after a minute of holding that had Sakura sweating and furrowing her brow, someone stepped into the very outer edges of her senses. She couldn't tell who it was exactly, but their chakra, familiarly restrained and very cool and calm in nature, immediately reacted with a slight flare to hers. Oh, the upsides of living with seasoned shinobi.

Once she retracted the net, Tobi stopped walking. He was less than ten feet away from her now, where before he'd been clear across the hallway. She was still sweating from the strain of holding her chakra stretched for so long, but now that it was once more concentrated around her and not draped across the house, she was able to keep herself and her concentration steady.

Tobi cocked his head to the side. And just like that, the chakra that had at one point been swallowing Sakura disappeared. The only thing she could feel now was Tobi's normal, tapped chakra, humming and hovering around him like an aura. She didn't have the Hyuuga clan's Byakugan, but she didn't need it. She was super-sensitive to chakra as it was, and explaining how to "see" chakra without _really _seeing it was like explaining the color orange to a blind man. She could only describe the emotions that followed.

At that second, Zetsu appeared like an apparition, materializing from the wooden floorboards. He wriggled upwards until he was standing on two steady feet, staring curiously at Tobi.

Tobi blinked at both Zetsu and Sakura. Sakura couldn't remember the last time she'd felt more unsteady.

"I—" Tobi began, but Zetsu looked at him the moment he spoke. Tobi didn't speak again. Perhaps the most unsettling aspect of the situation was that Zetsu's look had not been a glare or a warning. It had simply been a _look, _like Tobi had said or done something interesting. But the way Tobi responded, immediately cutting himself off and closing his mouth so tightly, seemed off. In fact, the whole Zetsu-Tobi situation seemed off. It always seemed like Zetsu was looking at Tobi, always directly in the center of any conversation Sakura found herself in with Tobi. Tobi wasn't following orders, though, or being pushed around or even being subservient toward Zetsu, so—

"Are you alright?" Zetsu asked, taking a hesitant step toward Sakura.

Sakura resolved herself to her confusion and took a step. Zetsu took another step forward and Sakura took another step back accordingly. She had yet to unclench her fists. She kept a wary eye on his water contact; though she showed no signs that she was doing so.

"Sakura—"

"Maybe Zetsu should leave Sakura alone," Tobi said quietly, turning his back to Sakura and walking sullenly down the hallway. Zetsu paid no mind to Tobi's suggestion, though, and continued to stare at her. He didn't look like he understood anything any better than Sakura did. Sakura's head was swimming, though, and a curious weight sat on her chest.

Zetsu was in front of her before she could respond, though he didn't touch her. And for that reason, Sakura didn't move. He was significantly taller than her, she noticed, now that they were standing so closely. She stared at the color split at his neck and then his jaw and then his lips. Pointed teeth became alarmingly noticeable when he opened his mouth to speak.

"You—"

"Don't," she bit, inhaling sharply. When he sighed, his breath ruffled her hair.

He brought a hand up and laid it delicately on her neck, then traced her collarbone from shoulder to shoulder.

"_Don't," _Sakura warned again, and this time she grabbed his wrist, jerking it away from her. Her fingers tightened, undoubtedly using enough pressure to leave decent-sized bruises. When he brought his other hand up obstinately, she ripped the water contact form his wrist.

The look he gave her was almost a look of betrayal. "You're afraid of me?" he asked, eyebrows down-turned. It was a moment before the water on his wrist dried, and he regressed into a kitten, now much more of a cat than anything, with that habitual subdued pop. The smoke from the transformation curled around her bare ankles before dissolving entirely, and Zetsu rubbed against her shins, a purr welling in his throat.

She knelt down, face in her hands, and though Zetsu mewled and growled for her attention, she ignored him as thoroughly as possible. She was _scared. _For the first time since she'd initially taken them in, Sakura was scared. Zetsu was obviously doing something behind her back, Tobi had a full grip on a staggering arsenal of chakra, and Itachi was becoming bolder with her by the day. None of them were safe. She had to drive this point home as efficiently as possible. She felt more and more fenced in by them every day. How long had it been since she'd seen any of her friends, Suna incident aside? She'd even moved out to the country to house these men. Why did no one notice her absence? Her change of heart? Why had no one _questioned _her? And worse yet, why hadn't she been assigned any missions since Suna? Why was she assigned so little hours at the hospital lately? Why was she slipping from that decadent shinobi lifestyle? _Where had her life gone? _There was something intrinsically bizarre about the whole situation, disregarding the kitten curse-slash-jutsu entirely.

She growled into her hands in frustration, palming away tear streaks and holding back sobs as best she could. This caused her to take on a very violent hiccupping episode, though, wherein Zetsu continued to rub figure-eights around her legs and meow loudly for attention. The dark, quiet aura of the house was not helping matters. Zetsu's soft pattering and purring was the loudest sound in the room. She scooped him abruptly into her arms, distressing him, and marched down the hallway. She sidestepped and shuffled her way through two sets of doors and over the walkway, her feet stinging from the cold outside, and then into the boys' portion of the house. It was mostly quiet except for the occasional soft drone of one or two voices.

She didn't know who was where, but she walked into the first bedroom she could find, which happened to be, perhaps unfortunately, Kakuzu's room. He was shaking out a dusty quilt above a makeshift mattress of sheets and blankets when she strode in and set Zetsu unceremoniously on the bed.

Kakuzu dropped the quilt and looked at her slowly, one eyebrow raised.

"Keep him in here for the night," Sakura said, unsuccessfully holding back another hiccup. She put the back of her hand to her mouth. "Don't give him another water contact until the morning, okay?"

Kakuzu said nothing, and when Sakura regained her composure, he was watching her quizzically. Zetsu had since curled into a content ball on Kakuzu's bed.

Sakura's lower lip trembled, especially when Kakuzu kept silent. He just…_watched. _Waited, with his weight on one hip and his fingers lax and his mouth calmly closed. She fell quite literally against him then, hands fisting the fabric at the front of his shirt, burying her nose into his chest. She clenched her fists just as hard as she squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep, shaking breath. And still Kakuzu did not react except for the wary tightening of his stance.

"I made the right choice," Sakura mumbled to no one in particular, rather ambiguously, and then wrenched herself off of Kakuzu to storm out of his room, across the walkway, back through the hallway, and into her own quarters. The storming faded to pathetic shuffling eventually, and she barely felt that she had the strength to slide open her own bedroom door. Once inside, she managed to calm herself down and dress the futon decently. She felt silly and embarrassed for her previous actions in the process, and all at the same time, the confusion about Zetsu and Tobi still reeled tauntingly in her head. She suddenly wished it hadn't been Kakuzu's room she'd first found. If it was Kisame's room, would she have done the same thing? If it was Deidara's?

The moment she crawled into bed, bloodstained floor and possible murder weapon completely forgotten, there was a knock on her door. Nobody ever knocked. Everyone in the house must have known she was on edge. Did they see her exchange with Kakuzu? Did they see her storm off or break down? She didn't even care anymore whether she showed weakness in front of them. They knew more about her now than even some of her closest friends. She was too far gone to give a damn.

The culprit at her door slipped inside wordlessly, without an answer to the knock.

"I figured now would be a good time to get some fresh air, yeah."

Sakura felt monumentally grateful that it was Deidara. She shifted slightly under the blankets. "Okay."

"We're going to go out onto the grounds and feel it out a bit," he said, leaning casually against the wall opposite from her. "Find out how far we can go before it's considered out-of-bounds, yeah."

"Okay," she said again. She didn't feel like saying much else, incidentally. Her head was pounding.

Deidara lingered for a second longer, though he didn't say anything. The Akatsuki had an acute sense of other people's emotions. Or maybe they just had an acute sense of _her _emotions. The thought brought another unsettling upsurge of nausea.

He was completely silent when he left, just like when he had come. She fell asleep hoping, somewhere in the back of her mind, that they'd all find a way to escape tonight.


	12. XII

**Take It Or Leave It**

**XII.**

O O O

Sorry for the lack of updates. Life has been stressful.

O O O

In a way, her wish came partially true.

When Sakura woke up the next morning, the house was eerily quiet. For a moment—one that was delightful and horrible all at the same time—she thought that everything had been a dream. There were no Akatsuki living in her house, and she was back at her tiny apartment, safe and warm. This was, of course, all before she opened her eyes.

When she did open her eyes, however, the wood panel ceiling, much different from her apartment's outdated, off-white stucco, gave everything away. Perhaps, then, the Akatsuki had disappeared…

Not really believing it herself, she lurched out of bed, bare feet on the cold wood, and tiptoed into the bathroom. It was untouched. Surely this was evidence that she lived alone. After her bathroom dailies she took a trip into the kitchen, where there was still no sign of any of her possibly non-existent roommates. She dragged down the toaster from an overhead cupboard and located the butter among the mass of take-out leftovers in the fridge. The bread was missing, though, and directly preceding a thorough inspection, she found the empty bread bag in the garbage can, along with a trail of tiny crumbs leading in the general direction of the living room.

There, she discovered Deidara and Itachi, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sipping hot tea. They were oddly silent, and the longer she stood within their peripheral vision, she noticed, the harder they pretended not to notice her.

"Who died?" she joked, and then instantly regretted it. Neither of them answered, and she suddenly felt very sick. "Guys?"

"We have news," Itachi answered smoothly, as smooth as the green tea in his mug, and he took a careful, calculated bite of his sandwich. He ate like a bird and chewed as if he had all the time in the world. He took another drink of tea before continuing. "Two of your nestlings have gone missing."

"Who?" She wasn't in the mood for cryptic speaking. She was still in her pajamas, and the day had already gone sour.

"Zetsu and Tobi," Deidara answered, though his voice cracked a bit, and he cleared his throat. "They left late last night."

"_How? _I mean, the _curse—"_

"They simply left. They didn't return, and when we looked, there was no sign of them anywhere."

She wasn't sure who had spoken right then. All she knew was that her mouth was dry and her extremities were numb, from cold or shock she didn't know, and every ounce of knowledge she'd accumulated through her years did absolutely fuck-all of good at the moment. Her lips cracked painfully and turned down into a frown. Tears, why were there tears? "How did they…just up and leave?"

Itachi sighed and set down his tea and sandwich on the crude coffee table of upturned boxes before him. Deidara had long ago finished his sandwich, but he kept his tea clenched tightly in his hands. "They found a way to break the curse," Itachi said solemnly, and leaned back into the couch. "Obviously."

"That doesn't make any—"

"Just let him finish, yeah," Deidara interrupted, but there was no hint of malice or reprimand in his voice. Just a deep-seated undertone of betrayal.

"Tobi was outside, and was caught in the rain. For some reason, the transformation did not take place. As soon as he realized, Zetsu quickly followed suit and the both of them left without a word to the others. Apparently this was planned, because neither of them seemed surprised at all." He paused here, and Sakura dove at the chance.

"How do you know this?"

"Kakuzu saw."

"He saw Tobi leave and didn't say anything?"

"He saw the latter half of events. He followed Zetsu out into the yard, presumably out of distrust, and watched the exchange take place."

"What exchange?"

"Tobi appeared from the forest and spoke to Zetsu. After Zetsu had lured him onto the property and calmed him down considerably, he told Zetsu what had happened. Zetsu was able to conclude that some event—we don't know what—caused a break from the curse. From there, Kakuzu returned to relate the news to us, and Zetsu hasn't been seen since. He's likely followed the same course of action as Tobi."

"All of this time," Deidara finally said, squeezing the mug in his hands, "we've been trying to survive, keeping each other alive because we knew if one of us figured it out, we'd all get out."

"When in reality," Itachi finished, "they were in it for themselves the whole time. Frankly, it doesn't surprise me, considering who they really are."

Sakura's head was swimming. She sat down beside Itachi, unfazed by his normally daunting presence, and put her fingers to her temples. "So that's exactly what happened?"

"From what Kakuzu has told us, yes. We have no reason to doubt him."

She laughed, somewhat bitterly. "All of those times I'd wanted you all to just disappear…I don't even know what to think now."

A ghost of a smile graced Itachi's lips, somber-like, until it blossomed into something wholly uncharacteristic of the Itachi that Sakura had grown to know. "It's unsettling to learn that someone you may have trusted, even in the tiniest amount, has manipulated and used you to their own gain."

"Why did they leave you all behind?" she asked, taking Itachi's tea from the box-table and taking a drink. Her nose twitched at the overabundance of honey he'd poured into it. Itachi gave her a disapproving look and surrendered his tea to the hands of his makeshift caretaker.

"A lack of trust, perhaps. Zetsu and Tobi had always been the black sheep of the Akatsuki, so to speak, and had almost always banded together. They were both enigmas in their own rights, even to our…leader."

"Do you think they'll come back to attack you? Or me?"

"No," Deidara answered for him, watching Sakura drink Itachi's tea. "They won't have anything to do with us anymore. It would be dangerous for them to return here for you, and it's a wonder how or even _if _they got past Konoha's gates at all. Whether or not they'll become a more general threat in the future is still in flux, yeah. We can't know for sure."

After finishing off Itachi's too-sweet tea, Sakura sat comfortably sunk into the sofa and mulled over her raging thoughts. The emotional shock was devastating, and it blocked any and all immediate emotions, leaving her with a directionless numb.

Deidara and Itachi eventually made their leave, disappearing into the back rooms, and Kisame walked right past her some time later. Whether he knew she was there or not was irrelevant, because he got a glass of milk from the kitchen and retreated to the back of the house. Hidan, evident by his loud, caustic ranting about how fucked up the definition of loyalty and devotion had become, came out to use her bathroom and presumably her toothbrush, and then left. Only Kakuzu made an attempt to placate her, and he did so by sitting on the floor in front of the couch, directly next to her. Testing her luck and hoping he wouldn't react negatively, she reached out and played with his hair.

It was thick, but soft, and she twirled it absently around her finger. Soon she was threading her entire hand into his hair, and he was leaning into her touch, closing his eyes, and as she was drifting off to sleep, she thought he might have taken her hand in his for a brief moment. But pre-slumber delirium had taken a hold of Sakura before, and so she had her uncertainties about this. She napped through the morning and into the evening, despite her full night of sleep, where she promptly rose, made dinner for the boys, bid them a gentle, sad adieu, and then retired to her bedroom and into her unmade bed.

The next morning, before the sun came up, Sakura awoke. At the moment of awakening, the thought concretely registered: Zetsu and Tobi were gone, having disappeared into yesterday's early morning gloom. No one came into her room and shook her gently, or not-so-gently, in the case of Hidan, like they usually did. And it was still deathly quiet, but she knew this time what was and wasn't a dream. She simply got up like she always did, went into the kitchen after completing her morning rituals, ate her breakfast and made something for the men, and waited for something to happen all day. A sinking feeling dominated her solar plexus with an unusually strong grip, and when the two most furtive Akatsuki failed to show up that night or even the next morning, she knew she'd likely not see either of them for a long time, if ever again.

She couldn't quite make up her mind whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

They'd both betrayed her and the Akatsuki, but especially Zetsu. He had grown on her, in mysterious and dangerous and pleasant ways, despite his brashness and his split personalities and his penchant for secret-keeping and jealousy. It hurt, though, to know that it was all an act. He was putting on a play, using her, toying with her, for his own gains. Had she even known his real personality, then? He'd cycled through so many of them that she could hardly recall which was dominant. What was he like when he was being himself? He said he was being himself around her, but it was all a façade. A cheap mockery of the type of man she naturally gravitated to. Was that why he reminded her of Naruto so much?

This was why girls never fell in love with criminals and made it work. They were all criminals for a reason, usually. And when that wasn't the case, they never got the girl, or only one or neither survived. Villains didn't get happy endings.

She missed Naruto terribly.

After the facts were laid out and discussed, no one cried, not even a sigh. After all, wasn't this a good thing? No more complicated issues now that the root cause of most conflicts was gone, along with his frightening sidekick. The question raised, though, was who fit which description better? Here lately, Sakura hadn't been so sure. And three days after they disappeared, she still wondered who the ringleader was in the Zetsu-Tobi tryst.

Yes, it was a good thing; she finally convinced herself of it. A week after the incident, with still no talks of how to solve their kitten problem now that they had most of the jigsaw pieces for the ultimate solution, Kakuzu seemed as lighthearted as a sociopath could possibly be. Itachi seemed more relaxed than Sakura had ever known he could be, Deidara periodically crossed his arms over his chest and renounced himself to a weary satisfaction, and the other two—Kisame and Hidan—returned to normal.

So why did she find herself crying in her room during that week-after period? And, dear God, why did Hidan have to be the one to find her, of all people? She was sitting on her futon, letting tears come swift and natural, ignoring the building headache and hating the world and everyone in it, when—

"Hey bitch, make me a sandwich. Heh, kidding. Not really. I'm honestly starv—whoa. The hell's wrong with you?"

He barged in without knocking, as usual. But by now Sakura hadn't expected any different, and quite honestly, she wouldn't have liked it any other way.

"Nothing, Hidan."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't give me that. I may not be the fucking woman doctor, but I know that's a red light for 'Tell me lies about my figure, I'm depressed as hell right now.' Am I right, or what?"

"Oh, fuck off." She sniffed and wiped at the tears angrily.

"Your breasts are perfectly symmetrical."

"Go away."

Hidan strutted over to the futon and threw himself upon it, knocking his hand against her back on the way down by mistake.

"Or I could _not_ go away."

Sakura sniffed again. Maybe if she ignored him with all her might, he would disappear. She concentrated very, very hard on the idea that he did not, in fact, just walk two fingers up her spine to tickle her neck fondly.

"So anyway, I hope you're not crying over those bastards. Tobi was a closet sociopath and Zetsu was a trick. We're not missing out, seriously." He walked his fingers right down her spine, to the base, down further, to the curve of her butt, between her thighs, and when she didn't protest, he sat straight up. "Whoa, this is about Zetsu, isn't it?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Yes, it is. Don't give me that fucking look. As soon as I said his name, you were like, _bam._ Instant depression trigger. You know, he probably saw you as a cheap fuck and a free meal this whole time. He's like that with people. Manipulative and all that shit."

Sakura coughed lightly, but she turned at the waist to stare incredulously at the silver-haired man. "What do you mean?"

Hidan blinked and raised an eyebrow, as though surprised she was listening. "Oh, you know, he would sidle up to people, do the whole, 'I speak with perfect grammar now I don't I'm your best friend oh here's my other personality what're you gonna do' thing, right?"

Sakura stifled a giggle, and Hidan smirked, lying back down beside her and trailing his fingers lightly up her side, counting her ribs under his breath. It was oddly affectionate, even for someone like Hidan.

"You're kind of right, Hidan." She returned her lazy gaze toward the window again. "But, you know, this whole week I've been secretly hoping one of you would come in here and say something like that. I just need the reassurance sometimes, and you all knew him ten times better than I did." She sighed heavily through her nose. "I don't even know why I'm even telling you that, to be honest."

"I _knew_ it. You love me."

"You wish. But seriously, it's this conflict I've been having with myself for a long time."

He rolled onto his back with a heavy sigh. "Oh, jeeze. Here it comes."

"No, no, listen. It's like—I want to be independent. I don't want to be the damsel in distress. That's the whole reason I got my training in the first place. But then…I _want_ to be saved. I _want_ some guy to swoop in and carry me away like in the stories. I just can't decide what I want more, so I end up like this, in a place where no one can reach me and I can't even save myself."

He tugged her hair, and she batted his hand away. "Hidan, are you even listening?"

"Did I have a choice in the matter?" At her frigid expression, he changed his tone. "That's depressing, shit. Stop tearing yourself down like a bitch."

"I suppose it is very bitch-like behavior," she said sarcastically, resting her chin in her palm.

"So who did you want to rescue you the most?"

"Don't even go there."

"All right, all right." He sat up again, restless as always, and crossed his arms. "But seriously, let me tell you something about Zetsu."

"Shoot."

"He eats dead bodies. Most likely he'd just fuck you until he had his fill, and then eat you alive from your toes up." He found no applause at this. "See? You know what I mean. Oh, don't look at me like that. Fuck, I hate emotional women. Well, sort of. Damn."

Sakura burst out laughing. "That was a mental picture I could've gone without having. But…oh, damn, I'm crying again." A noise shuffled her out of her thoughts. "Hey, did you hear that?"

Hidan glanced at the sliding door.

"Yeah, everyone's been listening this whole time. What did you expect?"

"Goddammit. _Go away."_

Predictably, she didn't hear a single sound, most likely indicating that everyone's ears were still up against the door. Well, probably not. They were _probably_ just standing there shamelessly eavesdropping in the most sophisticated way possible.

"Oh, well," she ground out. "I don't even care."

"Anyway," Hidan continued, "as you can see, I'm the only one who matters. I obviously deserve better treatment than what I've been getting, as I was the sole instigator to find out what the hell your problem was. They're all standing there not doing a damn thing. Watch: Hey, Kakuzu!" There was a long pause. "See, not even Kakuzu's going to do anything, that dumb fuck. He's just sitting over there on the other side of the door, staring. Probably he's enjoying your suffering. Seriously, when _I_ worked with him, he—oh jeeze, are you crying _again?_ Knock it off. That's what Zetsu fucking _wants_ you to do. He'd probably come in his pants if he saw you right now. Tobi too, maybe. At the same time. No joke. They're both freaks and heathens." He searched her face and tried on an interesting array of confused, lost expressions. "So, uh, yeah. Can you make me a sandwich now? I'm fucking hungry. Don't get your disgusting snot on it."

Sakura sniffed one last time, and resolved to quit this abominable blubbering at once. It was rather embarrassing. "Thanks for talking to me, Hidan. That was nice, even if it came from you."

He pushed up from the futon and sauntered from the room as quickly as he'd arrived. "See, I knew you fucking liked me. I'm just a likable person."

Sakura thought she heard a sarcastic mutter from Deidara when Hidan slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him as an afterthought.

O O O

Kisame was the next to disappear, and Sakura found his departure startlingly effective in its relentless assault on her emotional state. She walked into the kitchen the next morning and found the ex-Mist nin and Kakuzu discussing something in hushed tones, a conversation that quickly ended when she cautiously moved in their direction.

It did strike her as odd that the two would suddenly find an interest in one another to the point of intense dialogue, and, in retrospect, she wondered why she didn't confront the two of them then and there for no other reason than it looked suspicious. Itachi's irritation at their display seen from the living room seemed odd as well, as though he knew strange events unfolded among dry, used coffee grounds and the nervous folding of arms.

Kisame went out "to scout the perimeter" later that night.

He did not return.

_Three in a little over a week,_ Sakura mused somberly from her perch on the kitchen countertop in the soft lights of early dawn. She had stayed up all night waiting for the man to return, but so far, her patience had been in vain. And some part of her knew with all certainty that he really wasn't going to come back. And really, most disturbingly, she wasn't sad like she was with Zetsu and Tobi. She was just so angry and so very, very confused. She'd helped them all so much, sacrificed everything she could touch and more, just for them. And look how they repaid her.

_I should've known the second he mumbled out that lame excuse for leaving the house. Now that I remember, it's not like he looked for me in the house to let me know he was going. He was halfway out to the edge of the path when I yelled at him out the window. _

Sakura began to shift her legs up and down, rubbing her inner thighs together in an absent-minded fashion. Her cotton pajama pants rustled together softly.

_It had to be something to do with Kakuzu, right? They were talking, him and Kisame…and then Kisame disappears. That has to be related. And Itachi felt like something was wrong, I think… Am I overthinking this? Ugh._

Kakuzu stepped into Sakura's peripheral vision not a moment later. Something deep in her stomach did a turn. She felt nervous for reasons she couldn't quite pinpoint. What would he say? What would shesay? What _could _either of them say?

Paused in an all-too-familiar moment of reflection, the man eyed Sakura the way one might appraise a fine painting before making the purchase. The weight of his gaze bore down on her like a stifling fog, and she felt suddenly aware of the distances between them. This shinobi had killed leaders of countries for their power and attained it, had lived for ages compared to her own clumsy ascent into adulthood.

Who was she to think this man meant anything to her, and she to him? Why did she place her attention on him as though she acted the impertinent child expecting the world to conform to her beliefs? All of the careful, backhanded touching, the wanton talks, the feel of her fingers in his hair and his eyes on her lips and his chakra spinning languid, heavy circles around her body felt like something concocted from the corners of her yet-girlish imagination. Realizations like this felt unwelcome at any time, but especially now they hit hard. She had no doubt she would feel them again, and she felt her spirits wilt to a new, startling low.

The moment passed, and Kakuzu moved to stand before the window atop the sink. He gazed unseeing at the sprawling forest beyond and remarked to Sakura, regarding her out of the corner of his eye, "So, the Mist shinobi has vanished. And you sit here unaffected. That tells me one of two things: either that you didn't like him all that much, or the more likely one, that you fully expected it." He turned away from her, so that Sakura could no longer see even his profile. "He seemed quite interested in Tobi and Zetsu's escape, you know. Was almost obsessive over it yesterday. But for some reason, he didn't want to talk about it to anyone else. How selfish."

She watched the muscles in his back, apparent through the thin shirt that he wore. He was stiff. He was angry.

He turned his burning stare to her again, and Sakura felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Mercifully, be broke the contact within seconds, and she sensed a previously ignored tension in the air vanish without a sound.

"I guess we'll be making our own breakfast, then. You don't seem…up to it."

She watched him turn and leave as quickly as he'd appeared.

O O O

In the same way it had come together, so too did it fall apart.

Quickly, unabashedly, and without notice, her covert family dispersed. First Tobi and Zetsu, and then Kisame, and now Deidara. He'd taken leave in _broad daylight, _while Sakura and the others had been occupied by their own doings. She wasn't sure exactly when, but she knew it was sometime between breakfast and five o'clock in the evening. He left no apology, no thank you, and no evidence that he'd even been there at all. He'd simply disappeared into thin air.

She cooked dinner that night, much smaller than she'd become accustomed to, and laid places at the cardboard box table for four people. Kakuzu and Hidan flanked her, oddly silent, and Itachi sat across from her, not lifting his eyes from his food. The dull _clink _of silverware against ceramic plates acted in lieu of the usual supper conversation.

When finished, Itachi stood, taking his dishes to the sink. He washed them, dried them, and put them away, and then walked down the hallway toward his barren room.

When his footsteps stopped, Sakura looked up.

Back facing her, he turned his head slightly, so that she could see a hint of his profile behind a curtain of hair. This was more than enough warning for her. Itachi was going to leave tonight.

Hidan muttered "Good riddance…" under his breath, and Sakura elbowed him softly.

When all of her ward, these cat criminals, feline felons, had slipped off to do their own bidding, be it staying another night, leaving her behind without so much as a goodbye, or just plain sleeping, she lie awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was unnaturally cold that night, and she kept the blankets tucked to her chin. She told herself that she just couldn't seem to fall asleep, but in reality, she was straining her ears for the sound of one of them leaving. Oh, she'd catch them this time, and demand an explanation, or maybe just stare at them forlornly as they darted across her back lawn and into the forest. Then she'd bite her lip and choke back tears and shout "Coward!" after them. Yes, that seemed about right.

The sound she was waiting for did, indeed, come. A faint rustling, and then footsteps down the hall. It was obvious to her who it was even if Itachi hadn't given her prior warning that evening. His light, steady footfalls gave him away just as much as his chakra signature would have.

She watched his shadow pass across the crack in her door, and then the footsteps stopped. The shadow, stretched thin by the far-off hallway light, remained unmoving, draped across the entry to her room. She realized then that she had been holding her breath, and when she let it out slowly, her door pushed open.

Itachi stood there, imposing and regal even as strands of hair half covered his face, even as his hand lingered hesitantly on her doorknob. She sat up in her bed, and he took a small step into her bedroom.

"Itachi?" As if she needed confirmation anyway. She saw him nod, though, and take another step. "I thought you would have been gone by now." Her voice was quieter than she meant for it to be.

He pushed the door against the doorframe, but didn't fully close it. "That wouldn't be polite of me."

She shook her head. "I just thought you might take cues from the others. None of them said goodbye either, you know."

"Neither did they thank you." He stood very near her bed, now, dressed in black from head to toe. She wondered idly where he'd found the light coat, but didn't question him.

"I suppose that's why you're here now? To say goodbye and to say thank you?"

To this he gave her no answer. He was the most silent man that she knew. She could hear absolutely no noise from him—not his breathing, not the shifting of clothes, nothing. If she tried hard enough, though, she could probably hear either his heartbeat or hers. She decided she didn't want to try.

The swell of depression returned, folding around her like a too-heavy blanket. She stood so that she was directly in front of him, bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. She could only barely discern his facial features, but she assumed that his expression was the same as it always was. Stoic and cold. Passionless.

Swallowing and drumming up a veritable handful of courage, she wrapped her arms around his torso. Itachi, seemingly unfazed, did nothing. Sakura tightened her grip, then, assured, and pushed her face into his chest.

"It was fun," she mumbled into the fabric of his coat. It was only halfway the truth, but half was better than none.

Itachi put a hand on her shoulder, maybe as a bid to end the impromptu embrace. Sakura certainly did, feeling more embarrassed by the second.

"I appreciate what you've done," Itachi said in a low tone. "Kisame and Deidara did, as well, though they didn't have the presence to tell you so."

She smiled wanly at the floor, nothing his purposeful omission of Tobi and Zetsu. "I…I figured that was the case. It's just nice to hear some confirmation. But…how did you know that the curse had been broken? And how…?"

Itachi said nothing for a while. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he began to back toward her door. "It isn't safe for any of us to remain or return. Your village leaders will realize our presence soon enough, if they haven't already."

"Okay." She sounded feeble and weak, and she hated it. But by the time she'd steeled herself to bite out a goodbye, he was already gone, leaving her room exactly the same as when he'd first stopped in the hall.

Sakura crawled into bed and willed herself to fall asleep.


	13. XIII

**Take It or Leave It**

**XIII**

**O O O**

We have no excuses you haven't heard a million times before. This is just plain a long time coming! It's so easy to make excuses and put off writing after business no longer applies. We hope you enjoy all the same, and we especially hope you've enjoyed the entire ride from beginning to end, from carefree conflicts to the bitter farewells. In spite of the neglect as of late, we have really enjoyed concocting this thing, and it feels a little weird finally to let it go. Thank you for reading, and for your patience.

And thank you _unsung soldier_ for the shove, however belated our reply was. We needed that, or this hiatus might have gone on for a lot longer. This chapter is dedicated to you and to all other fans who stuck around when it looked like finishing was an empty promise. I do indeed empathize with readers of never-finished fics.

One more thing! Thanks to everyone (all three of you) who reviewed the story on my end as well through the private message feature. Since the story isn't hosted on my profile I tend to be overlooked, which is a bummer since I am a review-hoarder and love doling out long, personal replies to heartfelt responses (to some peoples' dismay, I would imagine). Thanks for making me feel special! (Aaaaaand feel free to review me again for this chapter. Oh lol.)

—**Aelibia—**

And now a message from Fallacy:

I can't really describe how it feels to be ending this. It's become its own creation; taken on a mind of its own.

But it's been a learning experience, and it's been fun. I hope you all enjoyed growing along with it, just as I have.

(P.S. There will be one final chapter after this - an epilogue of sorts, maybe.)

**- Fallacy**

O O O

If someone had told Sakura the day she found the box on her porch that her entire illusion of life would fall to pieces in a matter of hours, she would have ignored them and quietly reported the incident to the psychologists. As it was, she could have considered, albeit denied, the notion that she would reduce to a shadow of her former self before the end. Still, from the start she told herself that when all was over, she could return to relative normalcy of thought and habit, that she could forget about…them.

She recognized the delusion in herself mournfully, regretting that she always seemed to be the weaker one. For as strong as she could be in a physical sense, it seemed that she remained as indecisive and psychologically susceptible to emotional strain as ever before. She wanted everything to be over so she could have a nice long, few years to get over all this and repress the hell out of the entire spectacle.

A pity things didn't end up that way.

Because the very next morning, a series of odd, related occurrences began with a knock on the door at 9:27 AM and would end at dusk in a way no one expected, least of all an unlucky, unsuspecting young kunoichi.

The knock awoke Sakura with a start, disturbing her familiar dreams, dreams where she searched and searched for something she wanted but couldn't find, dreams where she chased after her colleagues and was left in the dust.

"Isn't the point of the unconscious that it's supposed to _stay_ suppressed?" she muttered to herself, struggling valiantly to open at least one eye. "I don't recall giving permission for my dreams to become uncomfortable allusions to my life." Sakura rolled over on her futon and ran her fingers through her hair in a half-attempt to appear decent to her caller. Her musings were, of course, purely rhetorical, and so the nearby snort of condescension made her stiffen and catch her breath before she turned to meet those glowing green eyes. A second knock on the door went unnoticed.

"Isn't that the purpose of dreams? According to the theory, at least." Kakuzu's subdued voice suddenly felt too large for her room, _he _felt too large for her room, as if his presence was pushing at the four walls and trickling through the cracks in the window and door. "They stem from the unconscious and show you your true desires."

Questions, of why he was in her room, how long he had been there, and why he smelled slightly of sweat stilled on her tongue, silenced out of the sheer physical presence of her anxiety. She swallowed, and his eyes moved to her throat.

"Didn't know you were into psychology."

He seemed amused at her statement. "I prefer some of the newer theories. When it comes down to it, most of the old ones about repression and the sexual drive theory and all the rest...those theories seem too personal for me to respect them totally. Those men were ahead of their time, though, however flawed their research may have been; I will give them that."

Sakura realized that this was the most she'd heard him talk for a very long time. She shivered. He watched her like a vulture, like a cat, like anything she could think of looming or predatory. And yet she felt the unbidden thrill of being the center of his attention streaking unbidden like a bolt of lightning from the part of her that urged her to charge ahead and leave her morality in the dust. _Id,_ she thought wryly. _It'll be the death of mankind yet._

"You're changed," she said aloud, almost trying to manipulate the subject that her mind had taken a liking to focusing on. Id, ego, super-ego: all topics best left to appropriated times of study. Not now. Not when Kakuzu stood before her in almost-morning light. Not when his presence was nearly suffocating her. "What happened last night?"

He tilted his head at her, and she knew he was surprised at her forwardness. Normally she would dance around issues for hours while she constructed her own hidden agenda, and even _she_ recoiled at this new boldness. Cunning had always been her hand before, and the current situation was no exception. _Should_ be no exception.

"You already know, don't you, little girl?"

She didn't appreciate his added comment and felt slightly insulted. She didn't linger on the condescension, though, and instead thought it prudent to overlook the slight entirely. "Hidan."

"Is gone. Metaphorically speaking." He twitched his lips in an oily, predatory smile.

"But—"

"You'd better answer the door," he said quickly, interrupting her before she could think to act, think to speak, think to _think. What a dangerous man._ He tossed his head toward the kitchen. "It sounds important."

"Yeah, you'd know," she muttered, feeling petulant in his company and much like the little girl he'd pinned her as. He only shrugged, comfortable in his ability to undermine her authority. For several frantic seconds Sakura imagined a bubbly housewife and husband in their place, provoked into existence through the openly misogynistic scene before her.

"You're going to the door in that?" He made vague motions at her makeshift pajamas as she brushed by him, an old white camisole and her black undershorts. Sakura pursed her lips. There, he did it again.

"It's _comfortable._ And I'm not going to change with you right there." She paused, debating the wisdom of her next question. "Why are you even—oh, never mind." The mood felt a little bit lighter, and for this she was grateful. She made for the door, expecting no obstacle, and cursed herself when she started again at the feel of his hand around her forearm, stopping her in her tracks.

"Why am I even what?" His gaze was ruthlessly challenging. He had changed so much in such a little amount of time, and yet not at all. The defiant shinobi that had taken down kages appeared suddenly in stark overlay across his face. Veiled by the careful defiance in his eyes was something that felt old and weak, though, again, she didn't have time to think on it. It felt a lot like betrayal, in any case, and she didn't doubt that Hidan's disappearance played an almost central role in this.

"I need to answer the door."

"That's not nearly important enough as your answer."

"I beg to differ."

She narrowed her eyes at him and wrenched her arm out of his grasp, well aware that he allowed her to storm off, but ignorant of his eyes following her retreating form with a most peculiar intent.

The knocking on her door turned to veritable pounding, and as she neared it, she could see the door tremble from the force being exerted against it. "One second," she called, and the noise abruptly stopped. She unlocked the locks quickly, and as she put her hand on the doorknob, she heard Kakuzu approach from behind.

"Are you insane?" she hissed, turning halfway around so she could see him. He smiled in a manner that distinctly unsettled Sakura and then disappeared into the dark hallway, backing slowly. His eyes, glowing faintly, were still apparent even as he retreated further.

She opened the door only barely, attempting to conceal what she could of her improper attire.

"Haruno Sakura," the man at the door stated, peering around the wide crack she'd left in the door. "I've been sent by the hokage to retrieve you. Your presence at the interrogation center is mandatory and urgent."

"Tsunade?" Sakura said, feeling somewhat out of sorts. How long had it been since she'd seen, talked to, or heard from Tsunade? What about Ino? Kakashi? Naruto had visited once, but then never again. She put one hand on her head, releasing the door in the process. The messenger-nin glanced only briefly from her face to her clothing, but his expression did not change, and if he thought anything about it, he didn't voice his opinion. Strictly business.

"Why?" she finally managed to ask. "I can't come at this second. I need a moment to—"

"The hokage has instructed me to be forceful if necessary due to the severity of the situation. Your presence is required immediately. There's been an emergency with Ibiki, he—"

Sakura stiffened and paled slightly, and the abrupt half in speech and subsequent shifting of the messenger's gaze from her to some point behind her went wholly unnoticed. This was no ordinary meeting. And why hadn't Tsunade sent for her earlier, or even inquired into her? Her leave from the hospital had surely attracted attention. How had she been fool enough to imagine otherwise? The top medic didn't just take an extended holiday for little reason without someone noticing.

A thought raced through her mind like a shot: Tsunade had been purposely avoiding contact with her, as well as the rest of her friends. The realization made her slightly dizzy, and she clutched the door once more. Had they been watching her? Observing her movements, what she bought at the store and how much of it? Was there any way they could've thought she'd need oversize clothes for another reason? Frantically she made plans to inform anyone who cared that she had a distant male cousin arriving soon for a visit, yes, and he liked to wear all different sizes…

But the messenger, the messenger! The only reason Tsunade would ever tell the messenger to use _force _would be if she suspected Sakura of foul. It would be if she suspected—

"Kakuzu of the Waterfall," the messenger-nin said somewhat breathlessly, at the same time slowly backing up. The raw fear written across his face sent a lance of some similar emotion through Sakura.

Severed forearms, connected to something else only by inky black threads, lunged at the messenger, and two big hands wrapped around his throat, lifting him a foot off of the ground

"Kakuzu!" Sakura shouted, running to the man and attempting to free him. She pried at Kakuzu's fingers, breaking one with a sick snap, before threads shot toward her and wrapped fully around her torso, pinning her arms. She, too, was lifted from the ground. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded, cringing from the pressure of the threads.

"You're right," Kakuzu said, although his expression did not change. He lowered the man to the floor, and at his feet's contact with solid ground, he gasped for air. "I should be much more merciful."

"No—"

His hands clenched, crushing the messenger's windpipe, which resulted in a horrifying choking noise, and then snapping his neck. Sakura had stopped listening to anything after the first noise.

Kakuzu released her at the same time as the man, and the dichotomy of the dead messenger crumpling heavily to the ground and her stumbling on unsteady legs made Sakura's head swim. Pictures swam before her eyes like a badly directed independent film, heedless of an audience, existing in sanity only to its creator. Vaguely she noticed her hands were shaking. She took a moment to put the month, week, day, _moment_ into perspective.

Kittens in a box, life on its head, the gain and loss of friends—_dependents—_that had destroyed entire villages, attraction for a man who had once meant to kill her and all she held dear, and a dead messenger from a hokage and old friends that might as well have been dead. Everything ashes, gone, smashed to bits. What had they all done to her? What had she done to herself?

"It was necessary," Kakuzu said, his forearms retracting and reattaching, withdrawing all of the thread that had previously been wrapped around her.

"No. No. _No."_ Where was her mind? Where had her spirit flown to? She crumbled and tore at her hair in agony within some dark corner of her mind while her body stood stiff as ever on the outside, keeping the stoic act that was her only sanctuary. Had _been_ her only sanctuary for years of inhibitive emotions. "No, you can't _do_ this. You can't do this to _me._ What _is_ this? I don't under_stand." _A functioning part of her brain quietly noted the beginning stages of hyperventilation and that the black strands had re-coiled themselves around her body almost intangibly. "Are you going to kill me, too, Kakuzu?" Who was speaking? Her voice no longer belonged to her.

"You're in shock, unsurprisingly. You need to get away from the door now," Kakuzu's voice sounded from across an ocean of time, waves crashing on a distant black shore where no one lived like this, no one ever became sad.

"The cats...I need to feed them," she said, suddenly remembering a dozen memories that were choked and blurry. "Check the stove. Make sure it's off. Should make my bed. My mom always said you could tell a person's work ethic by how they made their bed."

"We can do all that in a moment. You just need to rest a little."

The threads tightened around her midsection as he dragged her away from the door and into the dining room. She wondered distantly if he was aware of the strength he exerted through these appendages, feeling her ribs being pressed upon with a force great enough to break them. Before she could shout in protest, though, he stopped, though the threads remained loosely tangled around her body.

"Sit here at the table until you calm down. You're just having a panic attack. You need to be calm." Ever the master manipulator. Restrain when necessary and soothe them with prescriptive doses of pretty words when things got a little hairy. To his credit, though, he did seem marginally concerned.

But what did his cunning matter? Her entire world was dying, dissolving into little pieces, confetti memories, floating away. Or had it been dead and merely neglected in favor of blissful ignorance? Had it always been slipping away from her, hidden behind a blackened pall of feline distractions? When you had one, did the other even matter?

"My fault, it's all my fault." she watched in horror from inside her mind as tears poured down her face against her will. Why couldn't she get out? This couldn't happen, not to her. Something small and far-away told her that she was stronger than this, that she had conquered bigger than this, that Kakuzu was trying to break her.

"Panic attacks can happen to anyone. You're probably long overdue for this, with all you've gone through over the years," he said somewhat pragmatically. "Thinking half the village was murdered in attacks staged in your absence, all those people you couldn't save at the hospital. There was nothing for her, that little girl with the lung problems. They'd already settled in."

A distant snap, and she remembered control over her own body. She blinked and looked down, noting her restraints and the man attached to them across the overturned box-turned-table.

"Wh—how do you know about that? That was in the lockdown ward. No one goes in there."

His eyes glittered with dark amusement. Tapping his fingers against the wood, he leaned back in the chair with a thoughtful expression and sighed, it seemed to Sakura, indulgently. He met her gaze again and she shivered at the intent behind them. There burned something close to obsessive, aggressive, greedy behind the slight shifting of his focus.

"There's a lot you don't know," he said slowly, drumming his fingers a little slower until he stopped. "It's funny—"

"This is _not_ funny. You can't just—"

"—but even to me this all seems—"

"—fuck around with me like this and act—" Her tirade came to a choking halt at the insistence of a couple thicker strands that wrapped commandingly about her mouth and throat. One reached around to push her chin up in a manner that made avoiding eye contact uncomfortable. This time, she saw lazy, masculine authority imposed across his features.

"Don't interrupt me. I'm tired of listening to you gurgle on and not getting the same respect in return. You're a smart girl; I know you don't want to get into trouble."

She tried to swallow nervously, but it got stuck in her throat. The grip on her throat loosened only marginally.

"Your village knows something is going on here," he continued, and Sakura felt sick at the way the threads wormed against her. "Wouldn't you like to know_ how_ they know that? Or are you just going to continue with this aimless charade of control? I am the only one who can help you now. Be still."

The threads slackened more but did not retreat.

"I will tell you this first. Hidan and Zetsu were the only other real humans besides me."

He paused for a moment, presumably to let this information sink in. Sakura's head reeled. The only...humans?

"The others were part of the illusion I created in order to collect you." He did not pause this time, going on nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just grabbed everything Sakura had thought to be real and twisted it into knots. "Though the real Tobi did seem to show up from time to time, for reasons I don't care to indulge to you today. Very soon none of that will matter. It's about time those Uchihas did everyone a favor and died for good, anyway."

Her muffled cry drew his attention and his brow furrowed, almost annoyed. "Don't choke yourself," he patronized, and through some hidden signal a strand loosened from her mouth and curled next to her cheek, as though warning her it could return at any moment. The indistinct stroking pattern it took up seemed to mock a loving mannerism.

It didn't matter. There were no words for this, no heroic speech that could possibly grasp at what she felt. This went beyond the surreal. Even the threads curled possessively around her body and Kakuzu's imminent and complete control over her had no real impact. In less than an hour, facts and solids and for-sures meshed together in a patchwork blanket of foggy, stifling incomprehension. She didn't have to have threads around her neck to feel suffocated anymore.

"Think about it. The entire Akatsuki just sidles into the neighborhood and lives in your house, and no one notices? You and I—we, with Hidan and Zetsu—were the only ones who could even really register the illusions properly. They aren't all fakes, of course. I imbued minute parts of their chakras into the clones to give them their personalities. Their full counterparts no doubt felt odd little tugs from these doppelgangers I produced, but they are, for the most part, too busy with personal and organizational issues to look into them. I picked the perfect time."

"But how-?"

"The flesh is real, of course," he boasted, as if this were some kind of accomplishment to be heralded. "I _am_ the best at body manipulation out of any living shinobi, and when I care to, my work is unnoticeable by even the closest investigator. You even did full-scale checkups on them and detected nothing. Of course, you are young and prone to great errors. I overestimate you quite often-not to suggest that it isn't deserved when you _do_ succeed, for in such an occurrence you are...incomparable." He said the last word with velvet adoration. "There will be time later to explain the whole procedure in detail to you. You would be interested, medically. Years of time, perhaps."

He stopped to regard her. Sakura immediately made it her primary concern to remain as motionless and _e_motionless as possible. _A kunoichi retains control of herself at all times…_

"Don't bother. I can see you shaking from here. You're well aware of your less-than-advantageous position. But you have little to lose by hearing me out, and may I remind you that we should finish up this...conversation as soon as possible. The Konoha Princess will not forget she ever sent for you and go on leading her hopeless little band of misfits with one very obvious gap in the frontlines.

"But I digress to the original topic. I began collecting the right types of bodies for weeks, taking bits and pieces and experimenting which fit together best. I wanted the perfect combination. The hours I spent on this project are uncountable. But it was worth it. _You_ were worth it. And I had a lot of time once everyone but Zetsu and Tobi knew me to be dead. And Hidan didn't matter either way. He came here because of the boredom, really. He's practically a child." Kakuzu paused, evidently lost in the multitudes of memories explicitly illustrating Hidan's immaturity.

"It's shockingly easy to create false humans, you know," he continued calmly, as before. "They are like the hearts I used to wear on my back, no simile intended."

At once Sakura understood. "You...put _hearts_ in them. Hearts connected to _you_...and connected to fragments of their chakras."

He smiled like a cat that had cornered a mouse. "Very good. I knew you would pick up on it. You're too smart not to, for all you infuriate me with your stubbornness. But I suppose I'd have a dull future ahead of me otherwise. They're all gone now, besides." Here he shrugged his shoulders, causing the threads to pull Sakura nearly onto the table. "I disintegrated them in the order that I felt best. The ones most likely to suspect me first were the first to go. Kisame, for instance...he has the time to notice things. I thought when the doppleganger began to react strangely that he might be investigating this foreign tug on his chakras, abundant though they are. I kept the heart, though. Excellent specimen. Beautiful valves. Clean."

"But _I_ didn't notice anything...strange."

"You wouldn't. You're not observant enough when it counts." He waited, daring her to lash out, but Sakura only grit her teeth. Her brain ran a million miles an hour, looking for _some way_ out of this. There _had_ to be a way. _Run away. Run away from him, from Konoha, to Suna—no, not to Suna. Lightning?_ No, farther. A place where no one knew her, maybe even a place where she didn't have to be a kunoichi anymore. That would only attract attention, after all. She took deep breaths, consumed by an irrational fear that Kakuzu would read her mind and know to apprehend her. But after everything he had just told her, would that even be a surprise anymore?

By the way, I read minds, I just read yours, and you are not going _any_where. Hey, and would you prefer to be marinated in curry-style or hot-and-sour-style sauce? Because I am a cannibal also.

She bit her lip to keep from giggling madly. Oh well, a little insanity wouldn't hurt her now. Hell, she'd probably need it to get through this. She returned to her surroundings through a haze of sound, and realized that Kakuzu had resumed his speech.

"—knew that Tobi was more than he seemed. He would have those moments where I knew that it was the real man inhabiting the fabricated flesh, but he didn't seem to care after the first incident, so I carried on. I shouldn't have worried. He would hardly care for one man's obsessions where they neither inhibit nor relate to his own ravings."

Something occurred to Sakura in a flash of insight.

"Wait...Hidan. What _happened_ to Hidan? And Zetsu. Tell me what happened to them." Her voice took on a demanding, angry edge, one that pumped adrenaline into her limbs and made her struggle against the binds that held her. If Hidan didn't know about Kakuzu's whole insane plot, then maybe the affection he'd cultivated for her could be used to her advantage. If she could just get in touch with Hidan again, maybe he could help. He could help her beat Kakuzu back, and then they could help each other escape Konoha and escape Fire altogether. Her mind raced and her heart felt uncomfortably full of hope. It pounded loudly in her ears.

He chuckled in a most infuriating way, the indulgent elder to her squabbling toddler. This was already bad enough without his constant reminders to her of his upperhand.

"I'll tell you, if you insist." His tone was positively full of decadent arrogance. "Hidan, to be frank, is dead."

Sakura's heart ceased for a nanosecond. Her breath caught in her lungs.

"Without his rituals, he became mortal. I'm sure you were aware of this. I tore him apart a little bit ago. The whole thing was quite anticlimactic, if I do say so. He just...extinguished. Odd when I place the incident next to all the _others_ where I've mutilated his various limbs and extensions."

"Hidan was your friend," Sakura tried, feelings the corners of her lips tug downwards. She fought back tears. "He didn't pose any threat to you."

"You are wrong," Kakuzu insisted, his eyes narrowing. His chakra grew angry and roiling, making Sakura tense and struggle harder against the threads. "Hidan had been obsessed with immortality, ever since I have known him. And I have known him a long, long time. Since the dissolution, or _dysfunction, _perhaps, of the Akatsuki, his rituals became fewer and fewer. It seemed he was losing interest, growing tired of it, maybe. While under your furtive, nursing hand, he stopped entirely. Forgot."

Sakura scoffed tearfully. "So what are you trying to tell me, that Hidan was in love with me?"

"No, Sakura, that is not what I am trying to tell you," Kakuzu said, shifting in his seat. "Hidan was in love with the idea of familial ties. It was not you alone who drew his mind away from his god and his obsessions. He was, interestingly, the most upset about Akatsuki's split. He was alone again afterwards, with only himself, his religion, and his rituals.

"I don't doubt that he felt some manner of attraction for you. Given time, he might have grown to love you." She didn't miss the clench of his fingers where his hand lay, separated from the rest of his arm, somewhere to her left, threads spilling from it like black streaks of paint. "His desperation for companionship drove him to neglect his duties of immortality. Whether this simply escaped his mind, or whether he knew of his building mortality and did not care, I'm not certain."

Hidan _would _have helped her, had he still been alive. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from exploding at Kakuzu. What right did he have? Kakuzu must have thought himself a god in his own right.

"He's under the floorboards." Sakura felt sick, and some of her steely posture dwindled. "It was on a whim that I put him there. I suppose I could've buried him in the back while you were asleep, but what's one more restless ghost in this house? I suppose the next owner years from now will be raving in the market about some mysterious presence that utters foul language from beneath the drawing room mats."

"And Zetsu?" Keep him talking. She would put him off his guard, yes, and then run away with all the strength she could muster into her legs. When it _counted,_ she silently screamed at the man across from her, she could run fast as hell.

"Zetsu was called away by...Leader. You witnessed this exchange, though you don't recognize it for what it truly was. Leader felt that Zetsu was becoming distracted, and he was always too valuable to the organization to be sidetracked by interesting women."

"So then Zetsu really did...?"

"Yes, he really did care for you. Perhaps even enough to threaten my ideals, become violent when faced with the coming fruition of my plans. It was a good thing that he was called away. Our earlier yelling match was a microscopic precursor to what could have followed."

"What ideals are those?" Sakura asked, ignoring the growing inclination to seek out Zetsu once she escaped-_if _she escaped-and ask for his help. She could not face Kakuzu alone, and she could not outrun him for long. If Hidan was dead and Zetsu was unable to be located, her final and only option would be to turn to her old friends-the friends she'd had before a box of kittens and the puppet strings that she had been ignorant of.

"I would have thought that obvious by now," Kakuzu said, sounding legitimately curious, a better puppeteer than Sasori could ever have hoped to be. Master manipulator, king of conniving. "I want you. I want you to be mine, and no one else's. Forever. Indulge an old man his fantasies." God of greed.

Sakura didn't even realize she was losing consciousness until it was too late to force herself back. It may have been from her restricted airflow, or it maybe have been from the reality of the situation washing over her like a veritable ocean. She sank into darkness, and the last thing she saw was Kakuzu's impassive face, his glowing eyes burning green into the back of her eyelids.

O O O

When she finally came to, she found herself, after a brief environmental inquiry through her functioning wits, face-up on her futon, minimal strands binding her hands and feet. Without looking or even sensing, she knew who must be nearby.

"Where are you?"

He didn't answer, and when she looked up she saw his mirror image from this morning, leaning against her doorway looking down at her. Too bad he'd left her bound, or she could very well play the past exchange as a dream. Wouldn't that be perfect.

"You're not going to get away with this," she said instead of pretending it had been a dream, pretending everything was back to normal. Hidan was not under the floorboards of her home, Zetsu had not been called back by a leader that had him bound by duty and ill-placed respect. The question as to when _that _had become normalcy completely escaped her.

"I was wondering when someone would say that," he said, gracing her with a fragment of amusement in his voice, as opposed to anger or apathy. "I can't tell you how many times I've got that one."

She snarled at him. "Tsunade knows I'm her most loyal follower. She must be suspicious of all this. If it were me, I wouldn't just drop someone in the viper pit just because of a few strange things happening." He allowed for a tug of a smile, and cold fear gripped Sakura's stomach. Somehow she knew, she _knew,_ what he would say next. "No. No, you—you didn't."

He laughed. He outright laughed. "Did I ever say that the only clones I made were of my colleagues? I think Tsunade is more than a little suspicious, as you say, when her beloved student has been seen for the past few months in pleasant conversation with wanted criminals near this very meadow. She even looked happy with them. My, my."

"Oh, my God." This time she very nearly felt bile creeping up her throat.

"You were the most difficult to get right. Not very many people have pink hair. I had to go all the way up to Lightning to off someone with the right color. And of course I had to wait until I had lived with you a while before getting your chakra." He watched her with interest, waiting for a break in her defenses or for her to try for a hate-fueled, desperate escape. "Here you are now, with nowhere to go. What on earth will you do now?"

She didn't know which was worse, the numbness or the unrelenting pain. _The pain is better, the pain will keep you living, it reminds you to get to safety, don't give in—!_ But this naïve inner voice didn't understand, could not see.

There truly was no other way out.

There truly...

She saw the way he looked at her, eyes that she'd once found beautiful and hypnotizing and gentle now roaming over her with complete abandon. His emotions were unguarded, and she recognized what she saw in the bare part in his lips, teeth glinting white in the low light; the tired creases around his eyes; the softness that belied whatever hard front had previously pervaded his gaze.

He did indeed want her. He wanted her bodily and spiritually. He wanted every little part of her, every hair on her head, every thought in her mind. He wanted to own every part of her, and despite the firmness in his voice and manner, a quiet sadness wanted her to want the same of him. He wanted her to reciprocate.

"What do you want from me?" Her voice was dull, submissive. "What could I possibly give you that someone more capable couldn't?"

"There is no one who could give me anything like you. There was one girl who had your act down close, a prostitute in Mist, but she failed me in the end. It wasn't the same. She was the one I used as your clone body. I even kept her original heart. Easy." He seemed at lest mildly upset, and the unguarded emotion in his eyes was swiftly covered. "I've given up on replacements for you. Ever since I saw you that day, with your team as they confronted Hidan and I outside the collecting agency, I felt drawn to you.

"You made me feel young for the first time in decades. That defiance, that hatred and determination in your eyes—it didn't matter that I had little time to witness it, it was like a drug, one that I might be doomed forever to lust for and never touch. How fitting, I thought, to die this way for my sins. A lifetime of getting what I want to end with the best of all that I could never, ever hold."

She blinked, feigning confusion. "You want…my body? I'm not beautiful. I'm inexperienced. I can offer you nothing in that sense."

"No, but you have something that I have never seen before. It's indescribable except by its surrounding factors. I won't linger on it; it matters little."

"Maybe it matters to me, if I'm going to be along for the ride."

His gaze snapped to hers and burned like an inferno. A flicker of hope, a glimmer of happiness, a shimmer of excitement. She held his attention steadily and noted the way his eyes roved her form when she shifted into a more comfortable position.

"What are your intentions?" His voice was quiet.

"You're right, Kakuzu. I have nowhere to go. I have to be an opportunist now, even if it means taking advantage of whatever obsession you've decided to have for me." _Be honest as possible so he won't be suspicious. _"I don't really feel like being tortured or executed, not even _I_ love my country that much to lie down like a martyr and take whatever kicks they feel like giving me."

He drew closer to the bed until he was close enough to reach out a finger and touch her cheek. Sakura forced herself not to flinch as the steely threads scratched against her skin.

"Is that an invitation?" His voice was breathy, not from need or desire, but from disbelief.

"More like an acceptance."

"I could compromise with that for now, I suppose."

It happened without any warning or pretense at all. Loosing her bounds in strategic places, he removed her clothing mechanically and folded it, placing it on the side of the bed nearest her head. Sakura swallowed, panic swelling when she thought he might not untie her hands, the central part to her plan, but she immediately calmed when seconds later he withdrew the sinews to coil limply about her waist.

Looking back at him she had a moment to acknowledge that he had removed his own clothing with as much aplomb. She did not linger much on how he looked. Scars criss-crossed over dark skin, stitches mapping over muscles and bones. He lifted her legs around his hips, and she complied with some limpness. He paused a moment to glance into her eyes, his hands smoothing over her shoulders.

She tried not to let it show that she was disgusted. If he had not shown himself to be every bit the criminal he was, if he'd kept going and been Kakuzu the Logical and Stately and Mysterious but Warming Up, she might have done this willingly. She pretended, momentarily, that he was still this Kakuzu, and that nothing bad had happened. When Kakuzu noticed this change in demeanor in her, he leaned over her, lips brushing against hers gently.

She hardly responded, trying her hardest to keep up the self-inflicted illusion. It was the only way she could stomach any of this. He began to kiss her slowly and carefully, but she felt the emotion in it, and it made her heart clench unbidden. She could have loved him. She could have loved any of them.

If only Hidan had been a little less brash.

If only Zetsu had been a little less controlling.

If only Kakuzu had been a little more emotive.

If only Kakuzu wasn't who he was now.

He was inside her before she could think more on it.

She winced at the discomfort; a complete lack of arousal on her part created an uncomfortable friction between her legs that only intensified when Kakuzu began to rock them back and forth, seemingly heedless of her own pleasure. The only sounds in the room were the gentle creak of the bed, his regulated breathing, skin sliding against skin, and gasps when she could no longer stand holding her breath and counting seconds.

Thanking the mighty drink-and-revel combination that she was no longer a virgin, she held onto her sheets like they were a lifeline and closed her eyes tightly, wanting this to be over, not wanting to look at him and resenting their intimate connection. Oh, Kakuzu, oh, Kakuzu, this is not passion, and you are too much of everything that is bad in the world.

He quickened his pace, and she knew that he would be done soon. Readying some chakra in her fingertips hidden in folds of cotton, she registered his release and withdrawal with apprehension and prepared to open her eyes and strike out when a hand suddenly slammed into her chest, and at once she felt a burst of Kakuzu's heady chakra filling her entire body. Impossibly more violated than she had felt during their intercourse, she flung herself away from him, grabbing the opposite side of the futon to steady herself, and looked down between her breasts, dreading what she instinctively knew would be there; a stark black seal against the soft whiteness of her skin.

"What did you just do to me, you bastard?"

Kakuzu pushed himself into a sitting position, stood, and casually began to re-dress. His silence irked her better judgement and she stood, heedless of her nudity, heedless of what was dripping down her thighs in hot lines, heedless of the strands that still clung to her body and connected her to him, unfeeling of their warning tightness.

"You will not escape me." He turned slowly and Sakura saw something of hell in his eyes. His moment of weakness earlier had been so buried that it was no longer visible. "You will never get away. You think I don't know what you just tried to do? You think others haven't tried to use some last-minute escape plan? You are mine, and I will not let anyone else have you."

And this time she really was sick, depositing the contents of her stomach next to her pillow as Kakuzu watched on, indifferent. _This wasn't happening._ The threads tightened painfully and lifted her naked body to dangle before him like a fish on a line, caught and at the mercy.

She began to scream at him hysterically, losing her calm exterior in the face of stark hopelessness. "Why, why have you done this? You have no right to do this to me! I will not become some mistress of yours and cater to your filthy fantasies! I will not love you, I will not need you, I will not _want _you like you _want _me_, Kakuzu."_

"You are mine, I have told you this. I merely took steps to attain you. You'll learn to accept this in time. Perhaps you may even love me one day, may crave my attentions." If any part of him was hurt by her outburst, it was smothered by a blankness that transcended any involuntary reactions.

"But why all the complexity? Why did you have to destroy _everything?"_ She sobbed now, still squirming against the coarse black ropes that held her a few inches from the floor. "None of this makes sense. I mean, kittens? _Why?_ This is bizarre!"

He laughed at her in a disturbingly pleasant manner. Another chill ran up her spine.

"And why _not_ have a little fun along the way? I'm not going anywhere for a while, why _not_ make it entertaining for me at the same time? _Why?_ Because I have _time,_ kunoichi. Decades and _decades_ of time. I wanted to have you, so I left. I'm not used to being denied the things I want. They just got in the way, so I decided to have a little fun. You'll have time to think about it later, years and years to reminisce."

"What?" Sakura felt a growing hysteria welling in her stomach.

"You don't think I'm just going to let you get old and die on me, do you?" The realization of his statement hit her with the force of a gale. "I don't expect you to kill your own, of course. I'll get them for you, the hearts. I don't want you too spoiled by this world. That's your appeal. Your innocence is charming to me."

"No!"

"That is no ordinary seal. It is very old, and of my own creation. There were times when a quarry evaded me and I felt a special need for their heart. When applied, the seal creates in the wearer a burning desire of the applicator's choice. In this case, the seal will compel you to find me, and it will cause you intense pain if you try to avoid it. It will lead you to me when I activate it. I'm leaving now, yes. I'm going to clear the forest of ANBU and travelers so you don't run into them. The pain tends to make the wearer block their surroundings out, and I can't have you dropping on me and creating inconveniences. We will meet up far to the south. You will not keep me waiting long."

And with a slithering sound she had learned to associate with his odd little strings, he deposited Sakura unceremoniously into her bed and disappeared out the window. Sakura remained in position, dazed beyond belief and bearing marks of a highly unwanted sexual encounter. After an hour she felt a prick of pain and she knew that Kakuzu had not lied in the least. The seal's effects had begun and she knew that the longer she resisted the worse it would get for her until it completely took over and forced her the rest of the way. _South. Go south NOW._ It bade her like a dog whistle and she felt worse than an animal for answering its call.

Her undershirt and bottoms scraped over her skin in a strangely uncomfortable way but she ignored the feeling, now attuned to the burning from within her chest cavity. Quickly, she gathered her things, hating herself for the tears that had begun to slip over her cheeks unbidden. She had no friends left. All the little signs added up to Kakuzu's story. Months of living in paranoia had prepared her well for this news; she had lived in fear that Tsunade, someone, would find out, and now that they had she refused to question any alternative.

She knew what she had to do.

Fire jutsu had never come easy for her, but now she didn't mind, almost enjoying the methodological steps she now took in destroying this last bit of attachment to her country. Opening a bottle of liquor from the cabinet and taking more with her, she strolled through the house flinging the liquid on every inflammable surface she could see, drenching some of the most stubborn ones, and ended at the bed she had just exited, pouring the last onto her pillow. Withdrawing matches from her pack on the floor, the lit one and regarded the flame with a fascinated visage, as though she had never seen anything so interesting as the gaily dancing light. She had a final notion to combat the now throbbing ache in her chest, and almost as if it had read her mind she felt its next command.

_Do not kill yourself._

So much for small mercies. Bidding goodbye to the last of her dignity, Sakura let the match fall into the mattress and broke into a run from the room while the fire caught and began to eat away at the fabric and the dry wood of the house. Stopping here and there to light and throw more of the little torches, she ran out the kitchen door without bothering to shut it, stumbling over the body of her Tsunade's messenger in her bidden desire to run from what would have been a preferable existence. A piece of paper fluttered in the man's cold, stiff fingers and with an old air of her insatiable curiosity Sakura pushed aside the pain and examined the writing there.

_Ibiki injured by violent subject, needs medical assistance, I am occupied. Hope you are enjoying your time away to get used to your new house. Tsunade._

Sakura froze, mentally unprepared for this new blow, what this note meant for her now.

Kakuzu had lied.

How foolish she had been, listening to her own fears instead of investigating signs all around her. How foolish to trust Kakuzu for even a second, to think that he wouldn't have inserted lies as he saw fit to whatever truth he had spoken to her. But there was no time now to resent anyone, not even herself, as the seal in her chest increased the pain until it matched the intensity of the growing fire consuming the roof of the house behind her.

He was right, after all. The way things were looking for her now, she would have time later to resent everyone and everything as she saw fit. Months, years, and lifetimes of time. Eternity loomed before her, paradoxically, like a shadow of death, but yes, she could imagine dying a thousand deaths before her time with him was done, when he tired of her and threw her away. Obsession did not last forever. Unable to resist the pain any longer, Sakura clutched the note to her breast like a sacred talisman guarding her broken spirit and ran headlong into the woods without another sound, never to return.

Behind her, with an air of inexplicable gratitude and the slightest hint of a sigh, the old house burned and burned, the blood-stained floors blending in ashes with the rest of the ghostly remnants circling in the dusky sky.


	14. XIV

**A/N: **Dang, you guys were _hatin'._ Hey, we didn't say it was over, you know! We just...heavily implied it. Oops, sorry. This is the last chapter, though, for the record. This is the real end, folks. No sequels or pseudo-sequels. The happily ever after is up to you now.

From Aelibia, thanks to everyone who actually did message me! It made me feel warm inside. Feel free to message me for this one, too. DO IT.

-Fallacy and Aelibia

**Take It or Leave It**

**XIV**

**O O O**

Zetsu could smell the fire before he noticed the ashes filtering through the leaves. The forest had been completely cleared of ANBU and any stray shinobi, leaving him an open path back. He could feel very dim traces of Kakuzu's chakra, lingering in a few bodies here and there. He wondered, somewhat absently, if Sakura had finally gone crazy and lit the house on fire.

He had wanted very badly to leave Sakura to Kakuzu's mercy, give up on her and them altogether, and at first both sides of him had agreed heartily. That was why he had left, after all; he knew that if he had stayed, he would have confronted Kakuzu. It would have complicated things. Complications were unnecessary in this situation.

The further he got from Sakura, though, the more he had begun to doubt himself. His darker half decided that he was absolutely not okay with this plan just as he was nearing Fire's borders, and when he came to the borders and realized that every shinobi guarding them—all one thousand of them—were armed to the teeth, his lighter half had begrudgingly agreed.

Go back and talk to Sakura. It wasn't fair to have her helpless to Kakuzu's devices. _You owe her this much. She took care of you when she thought you were in trouble, and she showed you so many other things._

He broke into the clearing with a reckless abandon he had not known since he was very young, the smell of burning wood overpowering him. He quickly backtracked, though, upon realizing that a small team of citizens and a few shinobi were working to douse the tremendous fire.

She really had lit the house on fire.

Night had set, and the bright flames set against a backdrop of stars and sky made a dichotomy that he took only a moment to study. A beam fell in the house suddenly, and everything around him erupted in bright highlights of orange and red. He withdrew further into the forest amidst a chorus of gasps and hurried shouts.

He slunk into the ground, further away from the crowd of people, and felt for vibrations. Sakura was not still in the house; of this he was certain. He sat very still, feeling the soft pads of squirrels walking along the forest floor, the burrowing of beetles into the earth, trying to separate and discern a heavier footstep from those of the frenzied villagers.

To the south, perhaps five minutes away, he felt it. It was faint, nearly not-there, but it was _there. _Someone was running very fast, occasionally leaving the ground to presumably run across the forest's canopy. If anyone was Sakura, it was this person. He assumed things had gone decidedly sour between Sakura and Kakuzu in his absence. Why else would she burn the house down and then run away?

One more time, he felt a tug toward the north, the opposite direction of Sakura's path. This time he could leave for good, sever all ties and never look back. He would get over it, after a while, a couple years, maybe. In time he could forget about her—that much was certain.

"_Don't lie to yourself. You're in too deep to stop now," _his darker half supplied, helpfully moving his associated foot in the southward direction.

"But not too deep that you can't yet climb out. Lie low in Fire for a while; the border guards will thin and you'll be able to slip past."

"_You'll only end up coming back. Don't be a jackass."_

Zetsu decided that he was not, had never been, and did not plan to be a jackass ever in his life.

He took off at a sprint to the south, his lighter side curiously quieted.

When he finally caught up to her, she seemed to be so exhausted that she couldn't even register his approach. Matching his stride with hers, he wasted no time in getting her attention. In another situation, he might have enjoyed simply running alongside her until she noticed him and began to scold him for being creepy and sneaking up on people, but he could sense an urgency that suggested friendly banter wasn't appropriate at the moment.

"So Kakuzu told you everything and gave you the slip, I see," he shouted at her over the rush of wind flying past them. Sakura whipped her head around and stared wide-eyed at his face, disbelief etched over every line of her features. Just as fast, she tore her gaze from his and continued in her reckless run south.

"No, really? What gave you that idea, genius?" she yelled back. "I don't suppose you want a hug and a kiss for coming back to check on me. Get cold feet? You're too late now. I can't stop this thing. He said it wouldn't stop making me want to find him until I did and he took it off. And I'm shit at seals, isn't _that_ great."

"I admire your ability to find humor in even the most unfortunate situations. _But you're wrong." _Both sides of him fought for dominance over the conversation, struggling to speak to Sakura in their own ways._ "_He obviously didn't tell you everything if you think there's nothing to be done."

_"What?"_

"Sakura, no seal is unbreakable. Stop running for a second so I can explain this properly." He wasn't having problems keeping up with her, but engaging someone in intelligent conversation could be difficult at high speeds even for him.

"I _can't_ stop running, you idiot."

"Is it particularly painful?"

She stumbled and gasped. "Not really, but...it's hard to explain. It's like I feel this obsession with running, and I have to run or else I'll go mad. It is pain, but not...crude pain, if that makes any sense."

"_So it's psychological._ That makes things a little different, then."

"No, it's not like that. It's difficult to explain. It's like if I stop running I'll die. But hurry up and tell me what you need to tell me!" The urgency in her voice was punctuated with her shifting feet, ready to carry her further south at a moment's notice.

"I can't believe you're being so amicable about all this," he said. "I'd fully expected you to attack me on-site. _I had kind of looked forward to it, to be honest."_

"Oh, I'll kill you later," she snarled. "But right now I can't afford to rip your face off."

Zetsu—both of him—decided it was best not to comment on that little remark.

"_All right, I'll tell you this. You may have guessed already, but I'm a spy for the Akatsuki and Madara."_

"Mada—?"

"_Not now._ _But the important thing is that there are many things that I've seen. I know things about all the members. It's my job to know. _I'd been keeping a special lookout for Madara—Leader, to you—concerning Kakuzu and Hidan because we had a feeling they'd show up again. There wasn't much concern over Kakuzu's little obsession, but Leader wanted to make sure he didn't do anything rash that would spoil his plans. Like alert Konoha that a member was nearby and cause them to go on the lookout for more organizational affairs."

"Which he clearly did."

"Right. Anyway, being an insider on his personal affairs, I happen to know quite a lot about this seal he's made, although if you know anything about his habits you can piece the rest together. _I'm guessing you've heard something like a voice in your head giving you orders."_

"Yeah, something like that."

"The seal is connected to a lower life form of sorts that can give its own orders. The connection is to a heart that he has on his body and controls, puppet-like, with pieces of his chakra embedded inside it. So in order to destroy the seal we—"

"—Destroy the heart, got it."

Zetsu grinned. _"I'm telling you now that you won't be able to destroy it. Since it's connected to you, there's no way you'll even be able to go near him. I'll have to do it for you."_

"That's too bad; I owe the bastard a kick in the balls," Sakura replied with an air of frustration. "He pretty much raped and collared me. I'm so mad that I can't even _be_ mad, you know? This goes way past the normal boundaries for anger."

"_I'll let you have the final hit, then,"_ he said, hiding his own anger away for the moment. It wouldn't do to let her know too much now. There would be time later to talk. "Now," he continued, "you have to keep your senses attuned to him. Remember that he knows where you are at all times. I'm not a sensor so I don't know exactly where he is now, since I don't have primary access to the ring system, although that wouldn't matter anyway, anymore."

She slowed her run to a jog as she closed her eyes, looking deep in concentration. As they finally emerged from the forest into another stretch or moorland, she dug in her heels and came to a screeching halt, snatching up Zetsu's arm in a vice-like grip, and Zetsu knew who stood in the center of the moorland before she even had time to speak.

"Kakuzu!"

To Zetsu's delight, rather than cower and flinch away, Sakura balled up her fists and sneered at the man, knowing that she couldn't attack but sending a silent message that if she could, he'd be dead. Never mind that Kakuzu was probably far beyond her skill level, the simple gesture gave Zetsu a boost of morale and a renewed determination to finish him off.

Kakuzu appeared legitimately upset at Zetsu's presence. His stance, once slack and arrogant, tensed, his shoulders drawing back. "This isn't your business, Zetsu."

"It wasn't, no. But the circumstances have changed."

He gave no warning. He was too infuriated to speak and too determined to listen. In an instant, those terrible tendrils shot toward Zetsu, who fell into the earth, disappearing from view. There he stayed, even as Kakuzu withdrew his thread. He could feel the vibrations of Kakuzu pacing around the area, and the voices of he and Sakura were muffled and fuzzy. He couldn't make anything out, but he didn't like that they were  
conversing at all.

He emerged from behind Kakuzu, who, not surprisingly, had expected it. He whirled around to kick Zetsu, but again, Zetsu dodged it, snapping threads with his flytrap appendages when Kakuzu tried to apprehend him.

"You can still leave, Zetsu. You recognize your importance to Madara, just as he recognizes it. It would be a shame for his best agent to be killed."

_"The only shame here would be if I allowed you to continue to exist," _Zetsu countered, keeping his distance from Kakuzu. "You've far overstayed your welcome with the living."

"I am not dead," Kakuzu snapped, lunging again at Zetsu. It was easily dodged. Kakuzu seemed more sluggish than usual, his movements slowed to a level that was wholly nonthreatening. The heart that bound Sakura must have been sapping most of his chakra, leaving him weak and vulnerable. Kakuzu did not seem unaware of this.

A spot to the left on Kakuzu's chest expanded and then contracted quickly, and something loud that sounded wet and sickening throbbed. Kakuzu clutched the spot, clenching his teeth and glancing to Sakura, who was struggling to not step toward him.

"You can't fight it," he shouted to her, though she was mere steps from him. "You can't fight it any more than I can." The throbbing sounded again, louder this time and gurgling slightly, and Kakuzu coughed, blood spilling from his nose and mouth.

Sakura glanced to Zetsu. Zetsu had no knowing looks to give to Sakura. He was not aware of what was going on, past where Kakuzu had hidden the heart.

"It's _my _heart," he croaked, trying to wipe the blood from his face, but only succeeding in smearing it pathetically. "My only heart," he continued, regaining his posture and sparing Sakura only a fleeting look. "Call it what you will—contrived; cliché; ridiculous. But it was the only way to attach you to me, Sakura."

Sakura looked sick. Still she fought against the force pulling her to Kakuzu, though, steeling her body. "You are a very ill man."

"I am a very _old _man. You have not been the first." He coughed again, bringing more blood with it. The seal was rejecting him. Kakuzu had been too brash and too hasty in its creation. "But you were special."

Sakura tried very hard to reach for her kunai, her fingers twitching and clenching above where they were holstered at her thighs, but she just could not grasp them.

"I had not created a seal such as this at a high-chakra level before," Kakuzu explained, in a move that Zetsu assumed was a direct result of his acceptance of his failed plan. "I had little time to execute it." He did not remove the hand from his chest, clenching against the tight fabric of his grey tank—the same tank that Sakura had bought him so long ago.

Neither Zetsu nor Sakura moved an inch toward Kakuzu. He coughed and choked on blood, the heart buried shallowly under his skin beating visibly slow. It seemed anticlimactic to Zetsu, but to Sakura, it probably seemed a bitter, fitting end.

Kakuzu could not support his weight any longer. He knelt on the ground, breathing hard.

"We can still be together," he rasped. "Sakura, if you heal me—"

"Forget it," she snapped, her voice shaking from the implications of what he was asking. "Never."

He did not speak after this. He lay slowly on the ground, still breathing, but barely. The metaphysical grip he had on Sakura seemed to fade almost entirely, and she approached him of her own free will.

"In the beginning, you weren't bad. The man you pretended to be was a good one." Her voice was soft, motherly.

His head raised slightly; he grinned tiredly. "It was not…all pretend."

This statement seemed to affect Sakura much more than Zetsu had anticipated. She knelt in front of Kakuzu, not touching him, but looking at his crippled form. Blood had leaked from the shoddily formed heart, a black-purple bruise blossoming under his skin.

"Your greed put you here, Kakuzu," she said quietly. "If you had kept it under control, things might have been different."

At this he gripped the neckline of her shirt with a last burst of strength, looking up at her, body shaking violently from the effort. He tore the zipper down to her navel, and though Zetsu tensed and was ready to rip Kakuzu's hand away from her, Sakura's composed form reassured him.

The black stain on her had receded almost completely. It pulsed, and as it did, Kakuzu ran his fingers weakly over it, trembling fingers tracing the lines of his seal. He looked into Sakura's eyes, his half-lidded, and Sakura took his hand in hers, setting it carefully on the grass.

On a sigh of breath, Kakuzu lay his head down. His chest moved no more.

Zetsu could do little more than stare. Sakura did likewise. She checked his vitals, though, being careful to stay away from the place where his still heart was, unsurprised at the abundant evidence of cardiomyopathy. His heart muscle functions had simply deteriorated with all the strain put on the single organ and it had given out on him. She wouldn't be surprised if he had known and only depended on her ignorance of the fact to retreat to a safer location before dealing with the issue. She didn't have to give him the final diagnosis to know that Kakuzu was gone for good.

"His age played a large part in it," Sakura said, allowing herself to stroke the back of Kakuzu's head only once before she stopped touching him completely. "His body was unable to accept a change as great as this. At least, that's what I can guess."

"Kakuzu has lived for a long time," Zetsu agreed, keeping a respectful distance from her. _"It was only a matter of time before all of those years caught up with him."_

Silence pervaded the space between Zetsu and Sakura—silence from the two of them and stillness from Kakuzu.

After a while, she spoke. "I thought I would kill him." She touched the place where the seal had been on her body, now completely dissipated. "I thought either that or _he _would kill _me."_

_"Have more faith in your abilities," _Zetsu said, moving beside her as she stood.

"I thought for sure I'd spend my life chasing after him or running from him." Kakuzu's supine form seemed the focal point of both of their gazes.

Something hit his left jaw with enough force to knock him to the ground, and he realized with a start that it had been Sakura. She cradled her fist now, glaring at him intently.

"What—"

"That's for taking off and leaving me to him," she spat, angrily healing the broken bones in her fist. "You bastard. You _knew _what he was doing."

Zetsu was at a loss. He knew that this conversation would come up, knew he would have to face the reality of his abandoning her, but he hadn't thought it would've been this soon. "I—"

"I don't want to hear your excuses." Even as she said this, though, she knelt near where he dazedly sat, pressing her hand gently to his injured jaw. She healed it silently, not looking at him.

As her healing took effect and his pain subsided, his demeanor calmed. "Nothing will make it better."

"No. It won't." She sat next to him, finally getting a moment to catch her breath. "Never."

He didn't know what to say to this. He looked at her, though, and even while he did, he felt overwhelmingly guilty at what pain he had indirectly brought her. It was clear that the Kakuzu incident was something that she wouldn't forget for a long time to come. He wished that he had the power to take away memories. If he did, he would remove all traces of Kakuzu's acts, and make up a story for her in the memory's stead. Things would be okay then, he reassured himself.

Sakura drew her knees to her chest. Her shirt was still unzipped down the front, showing bare skin where that ugly black splattering scar had once marred her. "I can't believe they weren't real," she said softly, sadly.

"Kakuzu is—was—a master of his trade. It isn't your fault for falling for it."

She burrowed her face into the dip between her drawn knees. "What were they like?" she asked, somewhat muffled. "Deidara, Kisame, Itachi, and...Tobi."

Zetsu smiled gently. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, pull her against him and hold her, prompt her to release all her tears and frustration and grief, but he found it more appropriate to allow her to rehabilitate herself. _"Deidara was an idiot."_

She laughed out loud. "I assumed as much. Were they very much like their real personalities? It was all so funny sometimes, the way they fit together."

At this Zetsu snorted. "They were perfect clones. Up until the end, at least." He thought she would grow sad again at this, but she only smiled, closing her eyes.

"Zetsu said that Tobi would occasionally...be himself? What did he mean?"

"I don't think I should tell you that, Sakura."

"Please?"

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, drawing blood and then running his tongue over the wound. He would be murdered if Madara found out.

_If_ Madara found out.

"This is going to take a while," he muttered, sighing and lying back in the grass. Kakuzu's corpse, not ten feet away, went completely unnoticed. Zetsu made a small note in the back of his mind to take care of it so that Sakura didn't have to.

Sakura lay back beside him, and he started to explain everything—everything about Madara, everything about Tobi, everything about the Akatsuki and its dissolution and reformation, and absolutely _everything _that fell in between.

Sakura did not interrupt to ask questions or exclaim any remarks. She listened perfectly quietly, and more than once, he thought her to be sleeping. They moved on to different topics eventually, though, him telling her about his first love and her telling him about the little girl with the bad lungs.

By the time the conversation had left them feeling fat with fulfillment and contentment, the morning had begun to creep upon them. Zetsu found one more thing to be worried about, and it pricked painfully at his stomach.

He hesitated, unsure how to bring it up.

"Sakura..." She looked at him, expectant from her place in the grass beside him. A bird chirped somewhere. "You know you can't...go home."

She looked away from him, her expression heavy. "I know, Zetsu."

"Even if Kakuzu lied about the fake clone, at this point the whole village may know what's happened here, even if they didn't before. Things really add up in your direction."

"I _know."_ She took a deep breath and faced him again, lying on her side. "But I have to know for _sure._ I can't leave never knowing the real truth. After everything...I can't just walk away like this."

"_You're not just going to stroll into Tsunade's office and ask her if she thinks you harbored several fugitives, though. I don't see how you're going to accomplish this."_ But he did. He knew her request. So many others had entrusted him to a similar task for him not to pick up on it.

"_You_ have to do it, Zetsu. If anyone can get past the chakra barrier and do a little espionage, it's you." She seemed emotionally resigned, as though not walking into a potential deathtrap just ruined her whole day. "I hate sending other people to do my dirty work, but I don't have any choice. I'd just like to make it perfectly clear that if I _could,_ I would be doing it myself."

He couldn't help a responding grin at her assertiveness. "Of course. You're smart enough to know when recklessness isn't the answer. But there is one thing: _Do you trust me?"_

She blinked at him, then scowled.

"That's right. You know. I could very well leave for a while, never go to Konoha, then come back and tell you that there are posters for your arrest everywhere and that your old house is being searched. Surely you're not naive enough to fully believe in me."

For a moment she only continued to stare up at him, then sat up and put one of her hands on his chest. With a feather-light tug, she rubbed her fingers across every inch of his torso, as if sizing up his honesty by touch alone. Finally, she stopped, leaning forward and resting her forehead against the bottom of his ribcage.

"I _have_ to trust you. Don't you get it? Right now you're my only option. I can go to the border and be arrested, or go back home into complete uncertainty, and I was trained better than that." She slipped her arms behind his neck to envelop him into a tight hug. "And for the record I would much rather compromise with you than him, any day. You were always my favorite. I do hope you know that."

"_You are shamelessly manipulating me into obedience." _And for the strangest reason, he didn't mind at all.

"And don't you forget it. Now go before we lose any more time."

Seeing no more reason to remain (or, rather, seeing several _very_ intriguing reasons to remain but having better reasons to ignore the former until a more appropriate time), he concentrated his chakra and disappeared into the ground, out of sight, heading industriously toward the inner village. Sakura lay stomach-down in the grass where Zetsu's form had been just moments before.

O O O

Of course, he had a feeling what he might find even before he began his subtle eavesdropping from within various plants and from within the stones of the street. In spite of the perceived odds, Sakura had managed to avoid all detection owing to the very obvious threats outside the country from Madara and of course the recent threat of a single dangerous shinobi roaming the woods.

People wondered where she was, but since she had just bought a new house no one really questioned that she might stay away for a while to settle in, and of course most people simply assumed she was on a mission if they didn't have any other information. Shinobi disappeared from time to time, this was simply a way of life. Of course she was needed for work in the hospital, but if a real emergency had come up she would have been fetched with little bother, and most of the time a regular nurse or doctor did the trick before things got too bad. After all, it wasn't every day that someone got poisoned half to death.

It would have been a shot in the dark to tie Sakura in with everything. Kunoichi were certainly allowed odd habits; surely someone wouldn't immediately assume she had decided to harbor dangerous criminals just because she bought a bunch of clothes in strange sizes. Kakuzu had done his work well tearing her self-confidence down. Even now Zetsu doubted if she was in any condition to think rationally, and hoped that she'd at least stay put and avoid detection until he returned.

The thing was, he didn't really want to go back. Going back meant telling her the truth, because he didn't think he could bear lying to her and tearing her away from her life after what Kakuzu had done-after what _he _had done by _letting _Kakuzu do what he had. Hadn't she had enough lies and deciet for a lifetime already just from the events of the past day? He readily admitted to himself that he almost preferred simply tricking her into going with him, but that would make him no better than Kakuzu. And being better than Kakuzu for Sakura's sake looked like an occupation he could stick with for the rest of his life.

O O O

The leaves rustled gently near her feet, signaling Zetsu's imminent approach, and she stood quickly to get out of his way, though she was sure he announced his presence only for her benefit. He appeared silently and stood before her when she began peppering him with questions immediately, nervousness compelling her to speak.

"Well, what's going on?" Having fifteen minutes past only to her thoughts, she of course imagined the worst and had already begun preparing for a life on the run and away from everything she'd ever grown up into. She'd always been a bit attached to drama, and life-endangering situations were no different. With no one to assuage her fears, they simply ran wild. "How long do you think we have to get away?"

He appeared honestly surprised, then sighed.

"No one knows. Everything is quiet. They simply think you're moving into your new house. _Kakuzu was completely fabricating Konoha's knowledge about any of this. I don't think he really wanted trouble. There's some panic about some nameless shinobi prowling the woods that people are being mobilized to hunt down, but no one connected that to you; how could they?"_

Sakura gasped. "But I thought—why would you?" She definitely hadn't been expecting that. Where was that famous Akatsuki cunning and ambition?

"_You expected me to lie to make you come with me."_

"Well...a little."

Another sigh. "It's to be expected." He began to examine the grasses over her shoulder as though they were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Sakura took this as her cue to diffuse the situation. Of _course_ the emotional bits would all fall on her plate.

"I can go home...maybe I should now. Thank you for your help. I mean that."

At this, Zetsu's head snapped up and he looked intently at her face. _"But I don't want you to."_

Sakura took a calming breath. This just couldn't end easily, could it?

"What _do_ you want, Zetsu?" _Walk away, just walk away while you're still in one piece._

"Stay with me. We could make it work. I'm sure Madara wouldn't mind you as long as you didn't try and sabotage anything. You know better than to go after him, anyway. He's much too strong for you to ever think of defeating." He spoke quickly but softly, as though trying to settle an excited child. Sakura scowled and folded her arms. Just because certain things were true didn't mean she liked hearing them out loud.

"And live like your dirty little secret until who knows what happens? If Madara—_when_ Madara falls, I'd just be killed."

"I wouldn't let that happen. We would leave. _I am incredibly adept at getting out of sticky situations;- surely you know this."_

"You left me."

He had the decency to grimace. "I know."

"You left me alone with _him._ I should knock your head off for that."

"And I would deserve it."

"Zetsu, I really like you. But I can't turn my back on everything I believe and all I've worked for in order to have an affair with a man who believes and works for none of those things, with no hope or certainty at all for the future."

"No one has any hope or certainty in the future anyway. Why not live a little?"

"No one should do things like that just because." She tightened her folded arms. "I'm not going with you. And you can't come with me either. You have too much at stake to switch sides."

"_I have no desire to switch sides, anyway. I don't particularly enjoy being irrevocably tied to a government. That's why I left my village in the first place."_

She shuddered and closed her eyes against the numbness beginning to slip back into her thoughts. "Then there's nothing to it. I wish things could be different, but they can't."

He regarded her silently, sadly. "It's your decision, Sakura. It was always your decision. I won't make you do anything. I won't be him."

But there was no decision, not really. Realistically, there was only one way to go. She could choose the little details, but she knew that she could never turn her back on her friends. It wasn't her way anymore. Faced again with the choice to leave everything behind to be with a man, she found that once again it was one of the hardest decisions of her life to make.

"I can't do this, Zetsu."

He remained silent.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll ever see you this way ever again. The next time we meet, it will have to be on a battlefield. Goodbye. I'll miss this...and you."

Sakura raced back to the burning house, away from Zetsu, away from a life that just wouldn't work no matter how much she wished it could. But she could never turn her back on her country, Zetsu couldn't just abandon Madara when he'd invested so much time in working for the man, and there was no way they could both run off together, not when both sides would come down like forces of nature to apprehend them. She felt tears prickling in the corners of her eyes and fought them down, feeling them dry in sticky patches on her cheeks.

It wasn't until she had reached the edge of her clearing and had been seen before she realized her mistake. _The messenger. Oh, no._ Even if she could play off the fire as some electric accident (unlikely, given a thorough examination for cause of the blaze), there was no way everyone would ignore a shinobi who just decided to die practically on her front door.

The growing crowd of shinobi either putting out the fire with water jutsu or containing it to the house turned as a single entity when she emerged and screeched to a halt, facing them down and mentally preparing herself for a long stint in prison at the very best. _I can't believe it's going to end this way. Not after everything that's happened._

She didn't expect Ino to materialize from the crowd and fling herself on Sakura in the most bone-crushing hug she had ever experienced.

"Sakura, thank goodness you're alive!"

She managed a very intelligent "Huh?"

"You must have just missed them. Some unknown shinobi came through the woods killing nearly everyone out on patrol. They evidently went through this area and got poor Akemi when he was supposed to deliver a message for you." She paused and looked Sakura up and down, who still couldn't manage to formulate a response. "You're lucky you weren't in there when he set the house on fire! Some of the ANBU are saying that he must've known you lived there now and was trying to do you in as fast as he could. They still don't know exactly what he was looking for. He might be an Akatsuki, isn't that wild? Here, right next to the village! I know they've been here before, but you'd think, after all this time...hey, you don't look so good."

Sakura couldn't believe it. Was she really this lucky? Her? After being tricked by one of the oldest masterminds of the shinobi world, torn away from the notion of an impossible but achingly sweet happily ever after, and generally psychologically beat with a two-by-four, someone was finally cutting her a break.

"So, they...they think all that, do they?"

"Hey, maybe you should sit down. You look awful. And don't worry about Ibiki, I took care of it already."

"Yeah, I'll sit down. Thanks, by the way."

"Don't mention it. Hey, we need to hang out, I heard that..."

But Ino's voice gradually faded away as Sakura basked in the moment, feeling relief so overwhelming that it drove out her friend's social commentary and replaced it with a pleasant haze of muffled voices. She sat back on her hands in the grass and watched the house burn with a slight smile on her face, thinking that she deserved a nice cup of tea and a nap right about now, picking up the pieces of her heart and storing them away for later reconstruction.

Zetsu's disappearance wasn't something she could just get over quite yet. True, she had hoped as a child that she would never have to nurse a broken heart, that her entire life would be scripted and planned and _wonderful,_ but somehow she wouldn't have traded that life for never knowing Zetsu, even the way it happened. He, at least, was one good thing to come out of Kakuzu's insanity. In a way, so was Hidan, but she didn't allow herself to dwell on his loss quite yet. There was plenty of time for tears and hysteric rantings alone in bed at night in the weeks to come.

"Hey, Sakura?"

"Did a massive talking cat just fall out of the sky and announce to everyone that I am to be their queen? Because that wouldn't shock me at all right now." Ah, there was the sarcasm, back where it belonged.

Ino huffed. "Clearly you should be _treated_ for shock. You've just been sitting there staring into space for minutes. Come on, I'm taking you back to the hospital. You've been through a lot today."

"Oh, you have _no_ idea."

OoOoO

A week later Sakura found herself sitting on her new couch in her old apartment-house, a familiar location dotted with unfamiliar landscape, like a wilderness recovering from a natural disaster. _It might as well have been a natural disaster,_ she thought wryly, and took another bite of her sandwich. Reclaiming her old house had pleased her immensely, as few things could anymore.

Although her house had been occupied by someone else in her absence, Tsunade had decided that the old, familiar place would be easier on her mental state, which had clearly suffered a blow after such a bizarre turn of events. Imagine that Kakuzu, thought dead, had been found twice-dead in a clearing not far from Sakura's new home! Surely he had wanted revenge for his assassination and had decided that killing Sakura and a few dozen jounin and chuunin would be the easier solution to invading the village solo and finding the real culprit. Sakura's responding laughter at this statement had only reinforced her master's decision, so now here she found herself back home.

It felt strangely empty. Devoid of people she was politically bound to despise, people she came to care for anyway in spite of half of them not even being real, the void pressed on her spirit in an uncomfortable way, two sides of her making war inside her mind, one telling her to be grateful that she got away with so much, and the other missing Zetsu and everything that could have been that _wouldn't_ have been. Where was her perfect world where everything went her way and no one put enslaving devices on anyone and people could fall in love and have all kinds of babies and good times with whoever they wanted?

She tossed the sandwich edges into the trash (in her book, even being an adult didn't mean you had to eat the entire thing) and wandered into her bedroom in pursuit of what would be her third nap of the day. Evidently shutting her up in her house for two weeks would calm her down enough so that she could do her job properly, since no one wanted an edgy medic-nin anywhere near their sick bed. Still, Sakura appreciated the gesture, knowing that the time would give her ample opportunity to reconstruct her mask of indifference for whenever someone decided to question her about the ordeal.

_I will _not_ break down, I will _not_ fall apart, and I will fight him if I have to. Because I have made my choice and I have to stand by it, or everyone will see._

Trust everything to come down to appearances. Make believe you're okay and everyone would _believe_ it. She wondered how many other shinobi out there harbored their own forbidden loves and fatal secrets. After this, she would never look at anyone the same, for if this could happen to her, who was to say it hadn't happened to anyone else? She supposed that was the way of things. Once someone realized they were capable of something, they were primed to see it in others.

Disturbed and depressed by her dark thoughts, she sank into the sanctuary of her mattress and lay on top of the sheets, simultaneously pulled between her two favorite pursuits as of late: clearing her mind and thinking of nothing at all, and pulling everything in and dealing with it all at once.

Tonight, she wouldn't ever get the chance to decide. A slight tremor broke her out of her reverie and she stiffened. For a second, it felt as though the disturbance had come from the bed itself.

"_Sakura."_

She sat up with a yelp and felt her forehead collide with an oddly-placed obstruction sticking low out of the adjacent wall.

"I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. It was difficult getting here in the first place."

She froze with her hand pressed against her face, thinking that if she concentrated hard enough she could hold onto this moment forever.

"I thought you were going to stay away forever. Or as long as you could."

"Do you want me to leave?"

She slowly lowered her hand until it joined the other in her lap and looked up to see Zetsu's head sticking out through the wall.

"I didn't say that. How can you do that? I thought it was just natural material."

"_The house is made out of natural material. It's just dead."_

"Right."

"Aren't you going to say anything else?"

She barked out a laugh. "I don't know what else to say. You're not making this easy, you know. My answer is still the same. I can't leave. And you most certainly can't stay. I'm torn up enough inside without you making these little attempts on what's left of my sanity. And you might get me caught."

He seemed to shrug; the surrounding walls trembled a little where she thought his shoulders might be.

"No one will know I'm here unless they can see me. I'm near-undetectable, even for a sensor."

"How convenient. Now please leave. I can't stand you being here and not being able to do anything about it."

"_That's the thing."_ He tilted his head a little to regard her, and she began to squirm in spite of herself. _"I don't want to stay away. No, let me speak,"_ he said when she attempted to break in. "I know you probably don't favor this kind of relationship, but can't I just visit you every once in a while here, when you're alone?"

Sakura scoffed, ignoring the beginnings of hope welling inside her chest. "Funny, I didn't peg you as the sex-and-go type of individual. Or individuals, rather."

"Don't be defensive. I didn't say anything about that in the first place. We can just talk if you want, be around one another."

"It won't stay that way for long."

"Then we'll get to that when it comes up. Clearly you're looking forward to it, or you wouldn't be so fixated on it." He shook his head irritably, and Sakura couldn't help but smile a little, even if it meant giving herself away. "So you'll agree to it, then?"

"It'll be emotionally stressful."

"I can manage."

"I meant for me, you dolt. You're probably _used_ to sneaking around doing naughty things."

"_This is true."_

"And there's still a slim possibility of this ending well, no matter which side wins."

"_Unhappy endings are an occupational hazard. Why not?"_

"I can think of about a _million_ reasons why not, Zetsu." Because in spite of the joy now blossoming from everywhere within herself, she couldn't shake that little voice that scolded her for even considering being with him. But then again, didn't she once try to leave the village and tag along with Sasuke? So everyone screwed up a little in love, all right. "Zetsu, if this all goes to hell, what on earth will we do?"

"So you agree. Good. I can stay a little now, if you want."

She laughed affectionately at him, appreciating his lighthearted tone, though part of her knew better. Could she live the rest of her life never knowing how this would turn out, this final compromise that would make her happy again, even if only temporarily? She smiled up at him and he smiled back, still making no move to extract himself from the wall while she began to fall in love his little eccentricities.

"You know, I do think I have a little extra tea in the kitchen."

"_Good, I could go for some right about now._ How about some sake, too?"

"You are _not_ getting buzzed in this house. I could only imagine the possibilities of disaster."

"Ah, right, right. Some other time."

_We sound like an old married couple,_ she thought as she set up her old mismatched cups and filled them to the brim. _And I don't think I mind it at all, strange as it sounds. I could get used to this. _He sat down at the table opposite her and away from the windows, took the cup from her proffered hand, and began to take sips and make small talk with her like he belonged there, like he'd always known he'd be back again. Yes, she _could_ get used to this.

After all, she didn't think she could ever enjoy being in love if there wasn't a little madness and mystery in there somewhere.


End file.
